


Again and After

by Kmandergirl



Series: Idalya Mahariel Stories [10]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adults having to make adult decisions, Character Death, Duty before romance, F/M, Filthy Fade Sex, Graphic descriptions of violence, M/M, Multi, Necromancy, Other, PTSD, Powerful eye rolls, Referenced suicide, Smut, Substance abuse and withdrawal, The power of friendship before lovers, Warden in Dragon Age: Inquisition, alternative universe, lots of swearing, reference to trauma, the darkest timeline, the slowest burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2020-02-16 18:49:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18697210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kmandergirl/pseuds/Kmandergirl
Summary: Sequel to Once & Again containing Act 3 and Trespasser.*****Idalya has given everything for Thedas. After regaining her lost memories, the only path left for her is the fate she's tied to. A date with destiny that will force her to confront what she fears most.When you know the darkness awaits your return, how do spend your borrowed time?An alternative universe where the Hero of Ferelden accepts that death isn't sacrifice enough.





	1. The Chapter Where Morrigan Finds the Unexpected

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, old and new readers!
> 
> This is the sequel/continuation of my long fic Once & Again, the link is in the Idalya Mahariel stories link above. 
> 
> I know I said it would be a few weeks before you spotted this, but I'm a bloody liar who's already written five chapters this week.

 Seven weeks after Adamant.

 

*****

Excerpt from Solas' journal

 

_Mayhem was an understatement._

_Infuriating. Chaotic. Insanity. Never since my awakening have I longed to go back underground, burying myself and shutting out the world until Sera’s incessant pattering melted away through time._

_Idalya provides no distraction from this gauntlet of annoyance as she pushes ahead in silence. Two days into the journey and she’d stopped speaking. She only answers questions directed to her and most of the time she doesn’t hear those._

_Her dreams and nightmares thunder across the Fade each night I find myself unable to escape from. Archdemons, darkspawn, the humans who spat into an innocent elven child’s face once in an Alienage- those are the easier ones to handle. Then come the dreams of her parents, fallen companions, demons ripping shredding the flesh from tower Templars and mage, or the_ other _dreams I avoid._

_We’ve been connected since the Warden foolishly stole my powers to save the Templar. I know her emotions, feel them within the pit of my soul, even as the girl hides her words. I feel her unending grief because we both can’t forgive our failures, can we?_

_I do not burden her with this knowledge. She carries enough worries inside without knowing I see what she’s too ashamed to speak._

_Her powers have grown beyond mine in the Fade now. The consistency and soft foundation we travel through together reflected my control and manipulation of my emotions- she has none. Her discipline does not extend into the Fade where her powers have thrown everything out of balance._

_Sleeplessness is corroding me, slowly removing pieces each day we travel further into godforsaken lands. It took five weeks to reach the Storm Coast and more within the Deep Roads while Idalya meticulously cleared passages of darkspawn, her eyes enraged and face coated in splattered corruption before she’d allow us to descend into the far reaches._

_Two weeks without the sun and I feel trapped, surrounded by corruption, while the ground quakes beneath us. Apprehension has set into us all, besides the Warden who seems more comfortable in rotting lengths of tunnels than she did in Skyhold. Even Sera now speaks in whispers to the Iron Bull as they discuss the physical attributes of Idalya in the most vulgar terms imaginable._

_I have become their comic relief. Their inappropriate jokes made at my expense for entertainment during these drawn-out days. I don’t judge them for trying to find any distraction from where we’re traveling. I enjoy my mental games of chess with Bull, but Sera’s patience wears thin after only a few rounds of being excluded._

_This is the quiet part of the watch._

_Dal and the others have drifted to the Fade while I purge my emotions to the page then burn them before the others awaken just to have someone to speak to.  This writing has become my only source of comfort now that Idalya has locked everyone from her mind except those of us that can’t escape from it._

_The Warden estimates a day journey until our destination. I am hopeful our time in the Deep Roads will find a resolution quickly. I long for my rotunda and my books, my private sleeping cot, and my paintings. I long for the sky and the sun._

_But mostly I long for the girl who could smile that existed once in Skyhold._

_*****_

“ _Show me_.”

Leliana peered up from her unending pile of missives, tension tight across the arch of her shoulders. She rose a sloped brow at the condescending witch standing too close to her desk.

“Pray tell me, what I’m supposed to be showing you, Morrigan?” The Witch of the Wilds scowled at her typical sarcasm.

_She knew exactly what the witch wanted, but she’d be damned if she didn’t make her work for it._

Since returning to Skyhold with the Inquisition, Morrigan had peppered her questions regarding the ritual used to bring Idalya back into this undeserving world. She wanted to know the details, artifacts used, location, time of day, participants. If there was a question, she’d asked it in the month following Adamant.

The Spymaster couldn’t think of anyone who should know the details less than Morrigan. But keeping the witch ignorant required throwing a bone before she kept digging and managed in her unbearable stubbornness to unveil the truth.

“I will take you there… on one condition,” Morrigan’s golden cat eyes narrowed at her stipulation, even as Leliana could taste her need, her desperation for the knowledge. “I will show you where it happened and what we did. Afterward, you’ll never ask me another question about it. Deal?”

Morrigan sighed in relief, her feline features resuming their typical analyzing glare. “Do you think I _enjoy_ speaking to you?” She scoffed. “Let’s go now.”

With a silent groan, Leliana headed titled back against her stiff shoulders as she calmed the instinct to put her dagger through the witch. _It would eliminate so many issues._

“You know what… let’s get this over with.” She rose from behind her desk, her ravens squawking in protest at Morrigan’s agitating presence in the rookery. As she passed, Leliana cooed softly under her breath as she ran her fingers along the bottom edge of their cages and the birds calmed. None removed their eyes from the unwanted guest. Even birds were smart enough not to trust Morrigan.

It took Leliana’s last shred of self-control to not lead Morrigan back and forth across the fortress aimlessly until pointing at some arbitrary spot and saying _this is the place._ She wanted to be done dealing with the woman daily, and if this delayed more questions for just a week, it was _worth_ it for every second of silence.

Exiting from the main hall into the courtyard, Morrigan hissed aloud at the lines of training Templars; the soldiers dodging controlled fireballs across the field as far as her eyes could see.

“Tell me. Which one was _the_ Templar?” Even Morrigan wasn’t immune to the curiosity of gossip.

The witch wasn’t who she imagined having girlish chit-chat with, but it was better than discussing the war. Since their return, Josie rarely exited her office. Her plan appeared to be giving Cullen a run for his money as the resident workaholic of the Inquisition.

Her eyes scanned the fields until she spotted Barris’ broad and bare shoulders back at the watering bucket. He poured a jug over water over his head to wash away the sweat beading down his neck in the full summer sun hovering low over the fortress.

She motioned toward the unsuspecting Templar. “That one. Dark skin, nice eyes, _lots_ of muscles.” Dal’s repeated fascination with warriors made far more sense when you observed them shirtless. As much as his presence annoyed her now, Ferelden’s King had been very easy on the eyes in his youth.

It was unsurprising when the witch took off. She marched through the lines of Templars who backed away from her determined path as she headed straight for Barris. She balled her twitching hands into fists, her chin pointed upright as she stopped uncomfortably close to the Knight-Commander who stared down at her with a confused expression. To his credit and training, Barris’ posture remained at ease despite Morrigan’s glaring.

Their silence lasted a few unmoving seconds, placing the other Templars on alert as Leliana watched them with concern. Everyone here had worked to make Skyhold a haven for mages after their alignment with the Order- even Evelyn embraced integrating their forces to their advantage. All it would take is one non-veiled threat against Skyhold’s Knight-Commander to throw months of work away.

Morrigan’s body language calmed as she finished analyzing the man. “He’s boring- completely  _average_.” She yelled back in flippant disgust, before about facing and returning.

Leliana shrugged innocently in response to Barris’ questioning expression across the training grounds as the women turned toward Skyhold’s cells.

“That was unnecessary,” The Spymaster mumbled watching the Templars relax as Morrigan’s presence withdrew from their leader’s. 

“So is _he_!” Morrigan spat, aghast once more at Dal’s type. “Why does she settle for these dim-witted dog lords when she deserves more?”

Leliana honestly chuckled as they reached the cells, the soldiers standing aside for their entrance. “And what type would you suggest? Never mind, I don’t want to know who’d deem appropriate.”

***

Morrigan narrowed her eyes toward the Spymaster as they entered the hallway for the holding cells. She didn’t trust Leliana to not throw her within the jails for no reason besides her questioning. The rogue didn’t slow her pace as she continued to the far end, an unnoticeable door built into the stone with a simple keyhole drilled into the framework stood in the shadows.

Withdrawing an iron key from her cloak, she opened the lock and slid the door open before motioning inside. Morrigan followed her guide while preparing the magic inside should the woman try to trap her inside.

Stepping inside Morrigan cringed. Her throat gagging at the strength of the residual magic locked behind the door. She turned back to analyze the stone. Skyhold hummed incessantly with ancient magic she’d felt from a distance as she approached. Now it appeared the fortress held far more secrets than she’d understood.

A simple stone table was the center of the large empty room. Dried rings of brown coated its surface and the surrounding floor. Morrigan could taste the remaining iron hovering in the air. A lot of blood had been spilled here.

“You claim Fiona channeled this ritual?” the witch scoffed. “ _Lies_.” Fiona was a dying, old, gray-haired woman who could barely channel the energy to stand. When she’d heard the leader of Ferelden’s rebel mages was in Skyhold, she’d expected _more_ than a woman winded after a few sentences.

“Her and a few volunteers from her former circle.” Leliana shrugged not acknowledging her disbelief. _How stupid did she think she was?_

“Tell me exactly how it happened.” Morrigan walked closer to examine the remnants of the ceremony. Her palms laid flat on the stone tables listening to its unique vibrations, the fortress’ song hummed into her flesh.

“Fiona laid out the artifacts. She followed the ritual the Wardens used for Urthemiel. They reanimated Dal. It’s not complicated.” _She really thinks I’m an idiot._

“They bent the rules of what we know of the natural world. Magic of this magnitude requires a requires great power in exchange.”

Leliana’s jaw tightened, regretting the decision to bring her down here.

“This stays between us, Morrigan. All that blood? It’s Fiona’s. She used blood magic to power the artifacts. She almost killed herself.”

“That is your secret? Blood magic? Any idiot should realize that!”

“No, they wouldn’t. You weren’t here then. We’d only aligned with the Order weeks earlier while harboring Redcliffe’s mages. What would have happened if they’d discovered the leader of the rebels using blood magic beneath their noses on arrival?”

Morrigan paled, her jaw set in disgust. She’d seen the work of terror-filled, ignorant Templars through Kinloch. One of their worst now named Commander of the Inquisition. Those men never changed their biases, just the symbol on their armor. “They’d have slaughtered everyone without cause.”

“Then you understand. All of this remains a secret. You may doubt me, but do not doubt my duty to reduce bloodshed within these walls. These mages aren’t criminals, they were frightened refugees preyed upon by a force beyond their understanding. Their only crime was fear. Fiona wanted to repent; I gave her a way to start.”

_Maybe they had one thing in common._

“Idalya would never forgive you if she knew.” The Warden was always wary of power she didn’t understand. She didn’t fault or label those who used it, but it was never a path she’d choose for herself.

A familiar sapphire and silver shroud crumpled on the floor in the corner caught her eye. She swallowed her emotions back with difficulty as memories flooded through her. Idalya’s body had been wrapped inside, the girl’s skin grayed and sunken as they draped the cloth over her before entombment

The witch knelt, running the tips of her fingers over the edge of the fabric. Her head tilted as she felt a weight shift underneath. Her eyes flicked up and Leliana was busy avoiding looking at anything in the center of the room. With delicate fingers, Morrigan pulled back the edge of the fabric. It was a piece of bone. An inch long, bleached white from the decay of time.

In a practiced move from her childhood, she palmed the piece of the bone, slipping it into the side of her waistband in a subtle gesture as she stood.

“Thank you.” Decency wasn’t her strongest suit, but she needed to pacify the woman to avoid suspicion. “I… I needed to know, to see where…”

The Spymaster nodded in understanding as Morrigan pushed down her annoyance at the gross display of empathy from the rogue- it was unbecoming from the cold woman.

“This fulfills my end of the bargain. No more questions?”

“I will bother you no further.” Morrigan rolled her eyes as she passed by the rogue, her hand gently moving past where her treasure was tucked safely from the Spymaster’s knowledge.  

 


	2. The Chapter Where We Meet Shaper Valta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dal's team reaches the elevator that will take them further into the Deep Roads than she knew possible. 
> 
> NSFW

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sweeeeear, I'm taking some time off to read, like soon. I have so many Dragon Age fan fics saved I want to read and comment all over. BTW, if you write DA fanfic, feel free to drop a link in the comments below and I'll go read and comment!

_A pair of warm lips pressed against her pulse point, their buzzing heat stirring her from slumber. Idalya’s spine shuddered with an awakening need, a lazy smile spreading across her lips as she arched her back to silently beg for more contact._

_She hummed in appreciation as the lips worked their way to her jaw, sucking at the curve as she sighed in content. Alistair shifted closer to where she laid on her side facing him, the curling tufts of hair along his naked chest grazing against the stiffened peaks of her bare breasts. The unshaven edges of his beard scratching the sensitive length of her neck. The silk sheets slid deliciously across her uncovered skin as he rolled closer, his hardened cock resting against her navel._

_With her eyes still closed, she grinned as a heated mass shifted behind her and Barris’ plush lips met the gap between her shoulder blades. He chuckled softly as she shivered in anticipation, his mouth and tongue tracing the divots of her spine. With a gentle hand, he moved her hair to uncover the slope of her shoulder. A loud moan escaped the elf as Barris’ lips sucked at the hollow, matching Alistair’s pace on the other side._

_Her hips bucked on their own desperate for any friction they could find, a scalding heat building between her legs at every nip, suck, and kiss she sustained. She needed so much more from them for the empty aching inside of her they could fill._

_Sensing her needs, Barris’ large hands circled her waist before drifting around the outside of her hips. His fingers indented the flesh as he angled her hips toward Alistair’s waiting hands._

_The King parted her quivering thighs roughly with one hand while he dragged two fingers slowly across the soaking slit of her cunt. Dal leaned back against Barris’ chest, panting as uncontrollable moans floated out of her filling the air surrounding their needing bodies._

_Maker, she wanted them both so badly._

“Hero, wake _the fuck_ up!” Sera screeched.

Idalya’s eyes fluttered open as she gasped, the ceiling of stone filling her vision. Her throat spasmed as the dank smell of the cavern overcame her senses. She cringed as a violent _thud_ shook through the length of her core, her body still aching in need for the two men nowhere near.

Clenching her eyes, Dal sat up on her bedroll. Her temples throbbed as blood pounded through her system, her body swooning with every attempted thought. With a sigh, she opened her eyes and froze.

The entire team was staring at her, their jaws gaping open in shock.

“… what?” _Maker, please tell me I wasn’t making noises through that._

An exhausted Iron Bull wiped the sleep from his lids, his eyes bloodshot and yellowed adjacent to his gray skin. “As much as I applaud your style, Dal, I prefer being a participant over a voyeur. Next time, if I’m not invited, please leave me out.”

“Men have all their floppy bits in the wrong places!” Sera exclaimed with a horrified shiver as Dal’s cheek burned the darkest shade of crimson.

Just when she was certain the extent of her horror couldn’t increase, she shifted her eyes to see Solas staring at her, brows lowered, lips carved in a straight line into his paled marble skin.

“How… how long were we asleep?”

“Maybe an hour,” the mage scoffed as she blushed further, fire rushing to every surface of her skin.

Her head dropped into her hands to find some protective sanctuary from everyone who just witnessed her darkest desires unfold in real time.

_“Asha_ , we must work on your control of the Fade. Your emotions are _strong enough_ to encroach into the dreams of others. You must regain control. This mission will fail before we arrive if no one can rest.”

“It’ll be a minute before we can discuss this, Solas: _I need to die first_.” She mumbled into the shaking barrier of her fingers.

*****

The team shuffled in silence through the tunnel after packing their temporary camp after no one would be able to sleep. The air was now damp with the taste of moss coating it- there was access to the surface somewhere close.

Sera and Bull fell behind deep in discussion regarding the redheads of Skyhold, Dal and Solas taking the front as the Warden monitored the taint pulled in all directions as darkspawn passed in adjacent tunnels.

“I think I’m broken,” Dal admitted to mage without a prompt from the stoic man. She’d have to swallow her pride for help, no matter _how_ humiliating the subject was.

“I wouldn’t say _broken_ , but your powers are out of alignment. These fluctuations are new. Did you have vivid dreams before the Archdemon?”

“Oh, yes!” She chuckled quietly. “I always had a lively imagination as a kid, but after becoming a Warden, they were so real. When the Archdemon called I heard it, felt it, so much clearer than Alistair ever could.”

It had taken weeks of walking in silence to allow her to voice his name. Weeks for a single thought of Ferelden’s King not to reduce her to tears in her grief. In the same day, she’d regained the only two people she’d ever loved, only to walk away from both as a stranger struggling to sew the pieces of her life back together. It had been two months since Adamant and she still didn’t know who she was, but she was certain she couldn’t carve away the excess of stone to find what remained underneath within the protective bubble of the Inquisition.

“By the way, the darkspawn then could locate me like I was part of their hive mind. Our camp mobbed by creatures before I could wake. Probably should have mentioned that before we got here…” Solas swallowed loudly at her side as they continued progressing toward their goal. It was information she was loathed to admit, but he should know there was a chance she could summon the darkspawn inadvertently.

“Then after I came back, it was… better? I still had nightmares, but I could also control the Fade. I could avoid them most of the time and when I didn’t, I had you to guide me through. Now I have no control. During the day, I can reconcile the two halves of my life, but in the Fade, it’s a different story.”

Solas yawned deeply into the back of a pale forearm pressed over his mouth, his bare feet traversing the broken stones below their feet.

“Has this happened before? There must be others like this. How do I fix it?” She couldn’t be the only person unable to separate dreams from the bleeding world around them.

“As we’ve discussed before, you are unique. A Dreamer is a rare gift, _Asha,_ even amongst our own kind. The closest you’ve observed has been through the Harrowing your Circle mages must prevail through. A mage’s sleep is strengthened by pure lyrium then they are required to kill the spirit they find within the Fade or the Chantry barbarians remove their heads from their shoulders.” Solas frowned as both elves understood she’d fail any similar challenge right now.

“Have you known other _Dreamers_? It can’t just be us.” The slump to Solas’ shoulders was slight, but one she observed from the corner of her vision.

“Dreamers were common prior to the first Blight and some are rumored to exist within the highest branches of the Imperium still, but I’ve only encountered one other as strong as you in recent times. Felassan, the _slow arrow._ He was a mentor of Briala’s at one point. A Dreamer with violet eyes, who didn’t adhere to the expectations of modern elves; not unlike yourself.” Solas’ narrowed eyes drifted towards her as he studied her movement.

“Could we find him within the Fade?” Maybe this Felassan could have answers on developing control if Solas was unable to help her reestablish a foundation within her dreams.

The mage huffed an angry stream of air from his nostrils as he moved ahead of her. Anger powering his exhausted legs. “He’s dead.”

Dal sighed and filed the information away for a conversation later. She’d traveled with Solas enough to understand when it wasn’t worth testing the man’s limits. At a sudden emptiness of the corrupted pull, she paused, the creeping sensation of the darkspawn fading away around them as a more powerful one grew beneath her feet.

Bull released a loud jovial laugh as they entered an open cavern ahead, a group of dwarves spoke together in the distance. “There’s the most beautiful sight I’ve seen in weeks!”

Scout Harding peered over her shoulder as she stood next to the scaffolding of a large elevator as dwarves exited the lift. “You guys sure took the long way around. Also, you look like _shit.”_ The scout frowned as she registered the appearances of the exhausted crew.

Idalya rolled her eyes as the approached. “Darkspawn. They’re _everywhere_ and close to spilling out to the surface _.”_

“The Legion believes the quakes broken a seal below.” The Warden shuddered uncontrollably at the Harding’s words.

The Legion of the Dead were similar to Grey Wardens, warriors selected from all ranks of dwarven society, who cut off all ties to their families before traveling the Deep Roads until their eventual death. A broken seal would mean a nightmare with only one Grey Warden on hand. Small scurrying bands of the corrupt were easily dispatched by her, but a broken seal could mean hundreds, even thousands of darkspawn crawling through to slaughter their way across the surface.

“Then we need to get down there _now_. I thought we were meeting a Shaper?” All the dwarves standing around had been hired from the building castes, shapers stood out, and usually not in a good way.

Scout Harding rolled her eyes in annoyance as she tucked her hood over her head, hiding her blinding auburn hair. “That’s Valta, she’s already below.” _Looks like she made a good impression on Harding._ She pointed toward the elevator. “Stay away from the sides and hold on, it’s a _long_ way down.”

“Lace, do you have Ravens?” It had been weeks since she’d sent correspondence to Cullen or Leliana and she wasn’t in the mood to hear about it upon their return. They’d use any perceived failure of her ability to justify keeping her locked up within the fortress.

“Yes, Ma’am.” Harding reached out and took the rolled parchments Idalya removed from the side of her armor. “I’ll send them to Skyhold as soon as we reach the sky. Be careful.”

Sera peered apprehensively over the side, a deep scowl setting over her features. “This is fucked! It goes on forever!”

“Agreed, but we don’t have any choice. Everyone on.” Dal gritted her teeth as she took unbalanced steps onto the elevator.

“Hold on!” the builder dwarf yelled, and Dal raised a confused brow before the earth started to quake violently beneath their feet. The ground continued to roll across itself for over half a minute until the stone went silent.

“They’re getting stronger.” She mumbled to Solas as he met her eyes. He acknowledged her statement with a nod as he joined her on the elevator.

Sera reluctantly stepped onto the platform and all three cringed as the elevator dipped and redistributed its weight from the Qunari adding his mass. The team released a collective sigh after they didn’t topple through the air to their deaths as the dwarf set the elevator in motion.

*****

The elevator was an agonizingly slow descent. Stone passing on all sides as they moved further into the Deep Roads and away from any semblance of the surface. A pit of unease grew in Dal’s stomach as they inched closer, the taint within her veins burning acidic as they drew closer to the darkspawn below.

All four sighed in relief as they reached the bottom of the shaft, meeting another dwarf waiting at the platform, widened eyes filled with terror. He simply pointed in the direction of a thaig hallway ahead.

The Warden had her sword off her back, clutched in hand before the bitter scent of death reached her nose. A raven-haired dwarf stood over the bodies recording info into a journal resting over her forearm. Elaborate angled steel armor adorned her frame separating her from the dead mining caste and Legion soldiers decaying on the ground at her feet.

“I am very interested in this mission now!” Sera exclaimed as they drew closer to the shaper, nearly salivating down her chin.

Dal restrained her eye roll at Bull’s full laugh behind her as she reached the woman. “Shaper Valta?”

“Yes,” the solemn women looked upward meeting Dal’s reflective eyes in the dim light. “Orzammar is thankful for your assistance, Inquisitor.”

Sera released a muffled cackle as Dal exhaled in frustration. “The Inquisitor was unable to step away from her duties, but we are liaisons for her interests. My name is Idalya Mahariel, I am a Grey Warden with the Inquisition here to secure the lyrium mines.”

The Shaper scrunched her eyes in recognition of Dal’s name, but the elf continued, not letting her cut in with questions that would no doubt end up in her recorded history.

“I sense darkspawn, a lot of them, and they’re close.”

“The quakes have broken seals the Legion are unable to repair. They could use your help.” Valta’s eyes narrowed as they searched the stone around her, and Dal knew another quake was incoming.

The echoing rumble raced towards them before the shaking struck. Valta dove out of the way, crashing into Dal, both women tumbling to the ground as a piece of the ceiling caved where the Shaper had just been standing.

Valta pushed a loose piece of hair from her face as she looked out in the distance. “We must reach the Legion camp, I’m afraid of what the quake may have damaged… or released.”

Idalya helped the Shaper to her feet and the team set off into the along a cliffside further into the Roads.

“Solas?” The mage nodded in recognition as he stared out at the underground forests and waterfalls ahead of them.

“I’ve _never_ seen anything like this in the Deep Roads before,” Dal whispered as they continued moving forward with haste. “There’s an entire world down here instead of buried ancient crumbling buildings. How does this exist?”

“If the dwarves were still connected to the Fade, I could tell you. The Shaper may know then she’s sharing with us, be careful with your words around her.”

The Warden was about to challenge his typical distrust when a roar echoed through the cavern, heavy thudded footsteps approaching in their direction.

“ _Ogre!”_ Dal screamed as she raced ahead, Bull at her side with his massive ax in hand.

The corrupted beast was massive, its shoulders the width of the upcoming cavern preventing any way past without battle.

“Solas: barrier. I’ll take the front. Sera: arrows right at the eyes. Bull: take hunks from the side but beware swinging radius. Keep your mouth and eyes shut to any splatter.” Idalya’s blood boiled within as the ogre recognized her corruption and moved toward her, another roar quaking the walls around them.

Dal released a scream of her own as she sprinted toward the hulking darkspawn, Solas’ barrier a soft flickering line across the expanses of her skin. Ogres were massive, but their movements in confined areas tended to be predictable, a fact the Warden was counting on.

The ogre’s shoulder rose to swing, and Dal slid under the motion of its clawed arm as the gust of air almost knocked her off balance. Her momentum stopped her between the monster’s legs, and she didn’t hesitate as she stabbed upwards into the bowels of the beast that howled in torment as her sword ripped through its flesh.

Only training kept her from vomiting as the partially digested pieces of the ogre’s former meals of dwarves spilled from its intestines across the floor- the other members of her team were not so lucky.

To her side, Bull staggered under the overwhelming stench exiting the wounded creature. Both Sera and Solas gagged heavily outside the reach of battle. Only Valta remained fully upright, her eyes buried in her notebook as she recorded the battle.

A massive bellow left the creature as Sera stuck an arrow into the corner the ogre’s eye, its spine angling backward as it attempted to remove the obstruction. Dal didn’t wait for a better opening as her sword swung upwards, splitting the ogre from stomach to ribcage, black viscous fluid pouring out around her.

The creature groaned as it staggered in the entranceway, Dal rolling away from its collapsing radius with ease as she motioned for her team to step back. A moment of empathy swept through her as she felt the creature’s fear as the light dimmed behind its eyes. It hadn’t asked to be born like this- a bastardization of nature through a formerly-Qunari broodmother.

“That was the quickest, and by far _grossest_ ogre battle I’ve ever fought.” She chuckled darkly to herself as she scanned the rest of her team.

There were no smiles adorning the Inquisition members faces as they stared in horror at the thick, dripping, fluid dripping from her armor. Idalya shrugged as she continued ahead of the group to push deeper in the Roads for the Legion camp.

_Alistair would have laughed,_ she thought, and her shoulders drooped as the warrior’s empty spot at her side and his missing lopsided grin caused her grief to become real and freshly heavy all over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the great support! <3


	3. The Chapter Where Barris Fights Good Intentions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rylen's intentions backfire when he worries for Barris.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Faster than expected update. I'm thoroughly enjoying my reader-cation and I'm absorbing all the words.

Cullen’s quill marked the final words of notes in the missive’s margins as the front door creaked open. Rylen entered a silver tray full of barely touched delicacies filling the plates loaded in his arms. He passed the silent Barris buried within his own stack of paperwork as he set the tray down, grabbing a roll before plunking down in the empty chair opposite the Knight-Commander.

There were stacks of fruit, rolls, sweets- all untouched on glass plates. His mouth watered as he analyzed them in painstaking detail.

“Lilly not eating again?” The Templar was relieved of duty since their return to Skyhold. Her moods and drinking waging a fierce battle to see which could remain most uncontrolled.

Rylen swallowed a bite before shrugging and reaching for a mug of wine on the tray. “Today is two months since she lost Marion.  She still blames herself. This week will be a difficult one.”

The Champion’s death shocked everyone, but its weight had taken a heavier toll on those who’d known the bright-eyed and determined woman who’d protected Kirkwall. A woman lost in grief before many here encountered her. Marion’s former companions would arrive in Skyhold by the end of the week for a memorial pyre before escorting her ashes to Kirkwall by order of the Inquisitor since Starkhaven had not reached out for any information on the location of their former Queen.

The whole situation made him ill. A husband abandoning his wife over his loss of power.

“There are plenty of people to blame for the Champion’s death- Lilly is not one of them.” Acid coated his words at the Queen’s treatment at the hands of her King.

Lilly Hawke joined the Inquisition upon learning of Marion’s discovery of Corypheus, hoping to protect her cousin from another Kirkwall burning down around her. They’d won the battle after Marion, Evelyn, and the others toppled into the Fade. Through perseverance, they survived and clawed their way out, but the next morning the Champion was gone.

The only speculation that remained was whatever the Nightmare showed the vulnerable woman- it had been too much to bear.

It was unknown how the others fared through their own trips through the Fade. Evelyn had departed immediately for Orlais, Warden Blackwall dying to allow the others to escape, Idalya and Solas left for the Deep Roads, leaving only Dorian behind.

The mage remained quiet since their return, following the failing Fiona, healing the multitude of injuries she sustained as her faculties dulled. He had spoken in private to Leliana that soon they would prepare the woman’s own pyre, but the Spymaster merely glared before storming away.

“Lilly will understand someday, but until then it’s my job to keep her alive until she snaps out of it.” Rylen turned to stare down the Knight-Commander lost in thought. “Speaking of snapping out of it…”

Cullen couldn’t phrase his relief at having Rylen back in Skyhold. Right after their last meeting in Adamant, Evelyn and Barris had flown from camp on horses before the army was due to march. Cullen nearly collapsed in tears seeing them return later that day with the confused Knight-Captain in tow. If the tension between him and the Inquisitor had not been so fraught, he would have wrapped his arms around her and thanked her with sincere gratitude.

When he’d found the words to thank her, she’d been clear that she’d made the decision for Lilly.

The Commander frowned to find Barris still staring at the same sheet of parchment, his mind far from this fortress. Barris had maintained all duties since their return, but his friend had been withdrawn and absent for weeks since the events of Adamant.

The Commander cleared his emotions from his throat as he reached for a perfectly shaped strawberry. “Speaking of the Champion, how is Ser Arvale adjusting?”

Rylen chuckled as he tore another piece from the roll. “Adina? She’s _intense._ More than the wet behind the ears Ferelden kids or the cushy Orlesian Templars are used to. You can’t ask for a better Templar as far as technique and commitment.” The Templar grabbed the remaining confection on the plate before Cullen’s absent-minded grab could clutch it. “She’s a good pickup for us, even if the circumstances aren’t optimal. Where did Starkhaven find a Rivani templar, anyway? Especially one who looks like _that._ ” The Templar whistled loudly which echoed off the ancient crumbling stones of his office.

“She’s a direct descent of Cade Arvale, the Champion of Tantervale,” Cullen frowned at the lost sweets, and Rylen’s usual crude comments, as he finished more margin notes. “She stated she was the best candidate to guard the Queen, and Marion agreed.”

“Wait, hold up! Arvale as in the _last_ Champion of the Free Marches before Hawke?

“Adina is his granddaughter. Intensity is an inherited trait in that family.”

Rylen grabbed a used piece of parchment from the corner of the desk. He balled it tight in his fight, before flinging it towards the Knight-Commander. It soared inches past the Templar’s face, and Rylen’s shoulders sunk as the man didn’t register the projectile.

The Commander’s brows lowered as he glared at Rylen who only shrugged innocently in return.

“… And then ritual sacrifices begin at dusk, but good news, they invited us to participate in the wild orgies around the bonfire afterward!” Rylen raised a curious brow as Barris remained unmoving and Cullen’s scowls deepened further over the desk in his direction.

With a conceding sigh, Rylen reached into the side his armor, removing a rolled message, a broken Inquisition seal adorning it. “I almost forgot, Commander, an update arrived from Dal.”

Barris’ eyes instantly popped over the parchment and meet Rylen’s across the room. The Templars sustained eye contact as Rylen’s arm moved the note to Cullen in slow motion. Cullen grabbed the note in irritation, before groaning in annoyance at the broken seal.

“How many times have I told you not to read my mail, Rylen?” Cullen exclaimed as he unrolled the note.

Undisturbed, Rylen leaned back in his chair entertained by Barris’ sudden interest and participation in the conversation. “I’m you’re second in command- do you know how many messages you’d receive without me clearing through them first?

Cullen stopped, a look of confusion covering his features. “Is that why I had so much work while you were gone?” He shook his head as he traced over the words inside. “Typical,” he noted, before rolling the parchment and placing it inside a small drawer of the desk.

Barris’ shoulders straightened. He sat on the farthest edge of his chair waiting for any shred of info as Cullen returned to his work.

Rylen attempted to stifle a laugh as Barris’ frustration mounted. “Cullen, you’re _literally_ killing him.”

Cullen didn’t look up from his work. “The Knight-Commander’s interest in my mail should only concern the interruption of lyrium mining, which is being investigated as we speak.” His eyes flicked toward the Templar. “She’s safe. They met with Scout Harding at the Inquisition’s entrance to the Deep Roads three days ago.”

Barris’ shoulders relaxed even as the scowl across his features remained.

“She also noted,” Cullen continued, as his gaze moved pointedly towards Rylen, “that if her mail was intercepted, as usual, that there was also a letter for Barris.”

With a blinding flash of speed, Barris was out of his chair, but Rylen had prepared for the onslaught. He slid behind Cullen’s desk as the annoyed Commander sat between their cat-and-mouse game.

“Give me the letter, Rylen. That is an order!” Barris rounded the desk, but Rylen was already out of reach. “Rylen, I’m giving you one warning before your nose ends up broken again!” Barris growled between his teeth, all semblance of manners gone.

“You two are behaving like children!” Cullen roared. “Rylen, give him his letter! … what do you mean _break his nose again?”_

Rylen laughed as he almost tripped rounding the desk so it stationed Barris behind Cullen. “After the Winter Palace, our friend here thought I fucked his girl and greeted me with a fist without asking first.”

“It was a misunderstanding!” Barris barked back as the Commander cringed at the volume.

Cullen’s jaw dropped as Rylen rounded the desk again and ran for the side window where he stuck his arm into the open air, the letter clutched within his palm.

Barris froze, his upper body rigid as Rylen’s arm remained out the window as the Templar’s face fell.

“Did you read it?” His best friend’s silence spoke volumes. “Please, Rylen.”

“Del, just let me drop the letter and forget it exists.” Watching the hope drain from Barris’ frame was too much for Rylen to handle. “You two are too similar: you suffer than push everyone away while you sort through your shit. Let me drop the letter, then speak to her when she returns.”

“Rylen, please.”

The Knight-Captain sighed and pulled his chilled arm back inside and held out the rolled to parchment as Barris ripped it from his hands and exited the Commander’s office with slumping shoulders.

*****

_Delrin-_

_57 days._

_57 days since you held me as we prepared for battle and told each how deeply we cared for the other, that I fell into the Fade and what I lost rushed back._

_56 days since I awoke and chased down what I thought completed me, since you were the first thing I remembered from my new life, and when I begged for help and you accepted me without judgment._

_55 days since I couldn’t choose and ran away from safety. 55 days I have spent trying to describe how sorry I am._

_I wasn’t lying in that tent when I told you I loved you, but I also spoke the truth when I told you I love him still. The woman I was and the woman I am are learning to coexist, but it’s a slow and painful process of letting go of what I thought I understood._

_I grieve more than I thought one to be capable of. I grieve for what I lost, and I grieve for what had yet to come to be. I know this is necessary grief required to become whole again._

_Destiny awaits and I sense it moves toward me with haste. The fate of Thedas depends on finishing what they brought me back to accomplish. If I let myself love you, the temptation to let the world burn would be too great. That’s what neither of us wants. I would do anything to protect you from harm and I can’t afford to flinch when my moment comes to take down Corypheus._

_I am truly sorry for any pain I’ve caused you. Your friendship means more than words could ever express, but it is with the deepest sorrow I tell you I cannot offer more, no matter how much I may desire to._

*****

_Idalya-_

_My love was never conditional on being returned._

_A lifetime ago, I watched you sleep as we rode to Halamshiral and I swore, knowing you could never belong to me, that I would love you from afar. I would be the shield protecting you from harm. I swore duty would be enough._

_But then I knew._

_I knew the spotlight of the sun as my lips touched your skin, warmth spreading through the limbs strengthened by the words I’d only dared dream. I’d resigned myself to watch over you from a distance then was crippled with the overwhelming understanding of what it was like to stand at your side, to whisper the confessions of a broken man and hear them returned._

_I fear duty may not be enough for me any longer._

_But I will never force what you are not prepared to give. I will always respect your decisions._

_I have no way of placing this letter in your hands as you travel beneath the earth, so I leave it with all the things unsaid between us, with all the paths ahead that darkened as we parted, as I pray to the Maker for your safe passage home._

*****

The recruits raced out the door of the Templar tower, just missing Barris. The flush-cheeked boys apologized aptly to their Knight-Commander as they backed away, their eyes lowered to the ground from the exhausted man’s sight.

Barris sighed as he entered, his eyes adjusting to the dim candlelight as he climbed the rounded corner of stairs toward his private chambers. One of the few perks of his promotion was rooming alone. Rylen attempted to move his stuff inside the suite upon his return, but he’d quickly ushered his best friend back into the barracks unable to remain composed under Rylen’s constant analytical eye.

The vials clinked softly beneath the protection of his breastplate as he climbed the final set of stairs, his breath haggard and worn as his day of gut-spearing disappointment ended.

Bracing and locking his door behind him, Barris rested his shoulders back against the supporting wood, his eyes clenched as he shut his mind off from the warnings unraveling in his ears. He yearned for silence. One moment without a reminder of all he’d lost the last year.

With diligence, he unbuckled each piece of armor, checking each seam and joint for wear before hanging it on the stand beside his bed. Beneath the metal cage, his tunic was sweat-soaked and clung to the burning expanses of his skin. Barris pulled the fabric over his head, a shiver running the length of his spine at the cool breeze chilled the damp layer coating him.

From his armor pocket, he removed the sapphire velvet bag, sealed tightly with a leather cord. He rested his haul carefully on the small desk he’d stolen from the Templar quarters to bring his work home with him, as he sat down and stared at the small bag unsure of his path. 

_His fists clenched and opened, spasms firing across his wrists, forehead pounding, as he approached the Quartermaster. He avoided her eyes, but the woman knew Templars. She’d worked in Circles long enough to know the signs, the desperation he could not hide. He’d been so distracted in his worry for the Warden journeying to the Storm Coast that it had been three days since he’d made this trip. Over three days since the song calmed his nerves._

_Dal’s letter rested against his chest burning a hole through his flesh as he requested his provisions. The Quartermaster made a note in her log as required. She opened the engraved box with Andraste’s flaming sword embellished in pearl, Barris reaching out a weary hand to accept what was needed._

_The weight bowed his hand and his eyes narrowed to his palm where two large vials sat, a dosage higher than any he’d taken in his career._

_“The Knight-Commander must be at his best and with that, I expect to see you more frequently. Another mishap like this and I’ll be forced to report you to the Inquisitor.”_

_Lysette entered behind him, a greeting of ‘Ser’ as Barris pocketed the vials and turned for his tower without a word of protest, unwilling to argue in front of the woman who’d picked up his slack without complaint since his return from Adamant._

Barris stared quietly at the velvet bag, his temples throbbing, a methodical pulse in time to the song hummed from the vials begging to be consumed within reach of his itching fingers.

He thought of the letter remaining in his armor. Of the searing pain of Dal’s words, the memory of her fallen face as she’d walked away at Adamant, her confession of the love she still felt for Ferelden’s King, her inability to give him more of herself to him than she could give to Thedas.

His hands decided for him, loosening the leather tie, his callused thumb popping open the vial he poured past his lips. He’d barely finished swallowing the remainder of the thick metallic liquid before the next one tilted back and filled his mouth. A choke threatened to force the second dose up, but he forced it down, dropping the vial to the table where it clattered to the floor, the sound so far away from him.

The power was immediate as it surged through him, hands braced against the wooden desk as a groan exited his chest, his body now pulsing in tune with a song older than time, converging and becoming one with his weak flesh. The sweetest song pouring through the empty stores of heart until even with clenched eyes he couldn’t conjure Dal’s face clearly in his memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and copious amounts of caffeine keep authors alive!


	4. The Chapter Where the Legion Close the Seal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Legion of the Dead attempt to close the darkspawn seal while Dal makes a questionable split-second decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello readers! I hope everyone is enjoying the story!
> 
> Real world update: even though I have very thorough outlines for the next ten or so chapters, updates will, unfortunately, slow down since my daughter is out for summer vacation, we leave Saturday and drive out of state to sell our house hopefully in the next two weeks, then I just discovered yesterday that I'll be having surgery in the next month or so. I'm going to do my best not to leave on a cliffhanger chapter, but hopefully, I can get everyone back in Skyhold before my healing hiatus.

“ _Stay still!”_ Solas hissed through clenched teeth as Idalya spasmed; back arched off the ground, lips pressed together holding back the blood-chilling screams threatening to erupt from her throat. Shouts matching the explosions echoing through the cavern behind them.

The corruption boiled through the muscles in her side, its acid tendrils clawing into her flesh to take hold as the Warden convulsed, a cream-colored foam leeching around the gaps of her teeth.

_“The broken seal is ahead,” Valta called behind Idalya’s shoulder as she pushed forward, the lingering corruption howling violently through her veins as she entered the massive cavern._

_The seal was split. A crack large enough that the ogre they intercepted on the way could easily pass through. The Legion was engaged in battle, piles of darkspawn lining the edges of the hall as they pressed the monsters back from where they came from._

A broken cry exited the Warden as Solas gritted his teeth, aware they could crack under the pressure, pouring more magic into her blistering and blackened side. The wound was minutes old and already showing signs of turning, crimson lines reaching out, the faintest whiff of a sickly sweet aroma.

The Iron Bull bounded over; the seal collapsed by Legion explosives. Kneeling to one hulking leg, he reached into his pocket with one hand, the other forcing the Warden’s contracting chin up. In a smooth and practiced motion, Bull uncorked the healing vial and squeezed hard on the sides of Dal’s jaw until she gasped open in pain. He poured the contents down her throat as he held her from biting through the glass.

Throwing the empty bottle to the side, Bull clamped his massive hand over the sputtering woman’s mouth as he frowned, concern filling his expression.

_“Get those explosives in place!” The man Valta identified as Lieutenant Renn hollered as the team sprinted toward him._

_The dwarves moved like a deadly ballet of violence, dispensing the hurlocks blocking their way. Renn narrowed his eyes at Idalya observing the corrupted ichor leaking over the lengths of her armor._

_“A Warden. I would have preferred the Inquisition sent more than one, but I’m happy to have you here just the same!” The dwarf chuckled grimly even as Dal saw the relief in his eyes as he spied Valta catching up from behind._

_Bull belly laughed as he removed the hefty ax from his back. “Trust me, this one is enough.”_

It took three full doses of healing vials before the Warden’s jerking calmed. Solas reached deep within the well of his powers, uncaring who watched as he felt Bull’s brows rise in his direction. He was the only magic wielder within the Deep Roads and could easily divert any question as ignorance of mages.

Sweat lined the ridge of his brow but there was a minor uptick at the corner of his determined lips as he felt the corruption recede. The crimson lines faded across her stomach, the edges of the wound sealing back against each other no different from the collapsed seal in front.

Idalya released a stuttering sigh as her body relaxed, the final stretch of skin knitting itself back together. Her eyes fluttered open, staring at the moist and jagged ceiling of the cavern. “Well, _that_ fucking hurt.” She muttered as she tried to rise to a sitting position before Solas’ arm of iron pushed her back flat.

_With the charges set the Legion retreated, prepared to bring down the Stone and close the darkspawn’s access to the Deep Roads. She felt the creatures gaining toward them before the Legion sensed it, like Valta feeling the Stone’s unease prior to the quakes._

_“Lieutenant, we have a problem!” Dal screamed as the genlocks forced their way through the seal- three hulking beasts roaring in eagerness at discovering fresh meals awaiting them._

_The Warden, Bull, and Legion moved in tandem, dividing without argument to block the path of the darkspawn with their bodies from pressing beyond them. She ran for the middle monster, Bull to the left, her eyes tracking the hurlocks pouring through the passageway filling the cavern to protect their leaders._

_Loud clashes filled the arching halls as swords made work of the darkspawn. Dal dismembered the center genlock which crumbled to the stone at her feet when she heard a pained squeak behind her. Idalya twisted, turning without hesitation. The genlock to her right had massacred the Legion troops holding it, now stalking in Valta’s direction. She pressed her shoulders against the solid rock wall, Shaper board clutched in front of her face, sword dislodged to her side, as the beast charged unencumbered._

_She didn’t have much time, but Idalya would make her shot count._

_Sprinting directly toward Valta, Dal slid in front of the frightened dwarf, her sword piercing up under the enormous ribcage as the force of the genlock’s speed struck them. It knocked her back into Valta, pressing both women into the stone wall, forcing breath from their lungs as a sapphire flicker beamed across their skin._

_Then the pressure gave. The force lessened as the darkspawn staggered backward, its mouth gaping open as a deep groan escaped before caving to the ground._

_Valta stepped away from the wall, a tremor striking her bones as she understood the fate the Warden just diverted._

_Dal remained standing in place staring at the beast’s leaking corpse._

_“Idalya?” Solas called, striking lightning into the final group of hurlocks who screamed in pain as their skin ignited and popped._

_Face paled, Dal turned to him, a steady river of crimson over the magical barrier. “Solas…” she took a wavering step forward. “I think it got me.”_

_With a sigh, the Warden crumbled to her knees as Solas bolted to her, his hands over the open wound through the links of her breastplate where the genlock’s filthy, corrosive, and corruption-coated steel penetrated through armor into flesh._

“Solas, I’m _fine.”_ Idalya growled through her teeth, but the mage would hear no such thing.

“ _Asha,_ the wound is barely holding together. The Lieutenant is grabbing more healing potions.” On cue the dwarf arrived, handing over any supplies the Legion could spare for the Warden who’d dived in front of Valta.

Dal gagged at the thought of imbibing more bitter potion, but if she could hold down most of the rotgut Varric and Rylen offered her, she could drink anything. She also knew better than to push back on Solas trying to heal her. This is where he’d order her to rest like an annoyed and frustrated parent in over their head.

“Sera’s setting up a bedroll for you while the others prep camp. You’ll sleep until the wound has set up then you can take the next watch.” _He was so predictable._

But this time there was different respect to his words. An understanding he couldn’t just protect her; an acknowledgment she was their leader.

Before she could roll to her knees to rise, Bull’s warm hands reached below her, holding her tightly to his chest as he rose. She wanted to protest, to argue with the Qunari to place her down, but the steady cadence of his trembling heart against her ear calmed her nerves and as he placed her on the bedroll Sera had prepared, she mourned the loss of his touch.

With gentle fingers, Sera removed the strands of hair plastered to her features, worry etched into the elf’s face. Idalya’s eyes fluttered shut, her side still aching despite the horrific levels of healing poured into her.

_Rest. Yes, that’s a good idea._

One charging genlock and she’d almost lost everything for the Inquisition. She knew it in her heart but didn’t have the strength to force the issue until she’d awoken.

*****

Asha.

_No. Not now._

Then when? You’re putting others in danger.

_The Warden growled as her eyes opened, lavender rings swelling in the dim Fade illumination. Emerald mists passed and swirled around the reaches of her skin. Solas stood apart, his skin luminous and more vibrant within this otherworldly realm._

_She never mistrusted his instincts, but that didn’t mean she could find the energy to follow his lead. “Fine. What do I do?” Exhaustion within the Fade was an illusion, but Maker, was it a strong one. A caving sinkhole inside her soul where precious life leaked away._

_“Conjure a dream- keep me out.” He stated with a simple shrug like it was the most obvious answer. The man was insufferable on the best of days._

_She scowled in open hostility. “You make that sound easy. If I could do that, you wouldn’t witness my dreams every night.” Now it was the mage’s turn to shudder as he repressed those thoughts. A glint of sweet revenge vibrated through her at his distress._

_He pointed toward the open mists above as he shook off the previous horrors. “Imagine being enclosed inside a giant orb.” His hand arched along the sky until pointing into the distance. “Everything happening stays contained within. I will give you time then attempt to breach the dream. Keep me out. We will practice until your dreams stay contained.”_

_Before she could question longer to delay her discomfort, Solas fade stepped away, dissolving into the night, leaving a hole in the Fade as she longed not to be alone. Dal relaxed her shoulders, exhaling slowly, imagining a giant sphere taking form on the horizon surrounding her._

_She closed her eyes as she felt the Fade reform and disperse around her._

_Urthemiel jaws opened in front of her. The dragon roared an ear-splitting eruption that ached inside her skull. Its teeth dripped with acrid saliva as it swung, reaching across the plains of the Void to sink its claws into her._

“ _Dal, wake up.”_

_She bolted upright, panting in short gasps, hands clutched to her chest gripping her tunic in her panic._

_“It’s okay, my darling girl, just a nightmare.” Ali’s fingers trailed the length of her spine as his words barely registered to her sensitive ears, shushing her like a wild animal preparing to flee. He soothed the pain her own mind inflicted. His whispers magic, calming her nerves as he dispels her fear._

_“It’s so real. It’s waiting for me. I…” will die, her mind finishes the confession, unable to vocalize the fear, the inevitable fate, gripping her._ **I will die**. _As her mind sobbed the words, she knew the truth. Internalizing it in a way he’ll never understand until it’s too late._

_“Just the taint playing tricks, love. Lay back down. We march in the morning and can’t have our leader exhausted.” He purrs softly, and she feels his yawn quiver through the entire length of his body._

_Clenching her eyes, she follows the coaxing lead of his hands and lays back, cheek pressed against his chest, the thudding beat of his heart lulling her into safety._

_“But Urthemiel,” she started, unable to back away from her fears._

_“Not tonight, Dal.” He pulled her tangled hair from her face, pushing the long locks over her shoulders as he gazes at her. “Are my distraction skills needed, my lady?” His lips breathe over the crest of her pointed ear and a burning need ignites within her sending pulsing shocks through her back, a need to feel alive, to claim her defiance over her fate._

_A smile dares flicker across her lips. The soft drag of his fingers grows firmer, more persistent, the need to protect at war with the need to claim as she sighs beneath his touch._

_His hands tightened around her waist, she released a soft yelp of surprise followed by a soft laugh, as his honed arms flexed and flipped their position, pinning her below him, his thigh braced hard between her aching legs. A moan surged past her lips, the taunt hold of her muscles subsiding as her hips curled against the curve of his leg, delicious friction driving away her fear into nonexistence._

_His fingers made quick work of the laces on her shirt, the pads sliding across the open expanse of skin now available to him, tracing around the surface of the griffon-engraved locket resting in the valley between her breasts. As the clouds passed in the hanging night above, the moon was unveiled, a silver hue shimmering through the thin fabric of the tent. Her breath stuttered as his features because clear._

_This was her Alistair. A young man unscarred by what the world bestowed on him at birth. A boy withholding a secret that would destroy both their lives before long. The world had been kinder then, not carving lines in his skin, the unbound playfulness still hovering in his caramel eyes before what it was like to lose everything._

_The image blinked, Alistair’s face flashing between the man he was and the one he’d become in her absence._

_“Try again.”_

_“Andraste’s frilly knickers!” Dal screamed, the sound echoing through the mists, as she covered herself at Solas’ sudden appearance._

_Alistair was gone. Alone again, she clutched the blanket against her neck, restraining the insane urge to reach for the missing man that was only a figment of her breaking imagination._

_“You maintained control briefly. What happened?”_

_“I…” her cheeks flushed in embarrassment, the memory of his moving thigh against her still fresh within her core. “I remembered how much he’s changed in the last ten years and then it… whatever it did.”_

_“Again.” Solas faded away, an unusual expression resting pensively on his features, as Dal sighed._

_“I’m not doing this anymore!” she screamed into the empty void, but the mage didn’t respond as he traversed further away._

_Pressing her lids together she focused on Alistair again, the slope of his neck, the penetrating brown of his eyes, the soft laughter he used to press against her collarbones after joining. She can’t make the image return. The man lost to time remains just out of her reach and trying to grasp it makes the wounds in her heart only deeper._

_Relaxing her shoulders and neck she sighed feeling the Fade shift around her, building and solidifying. Her eyes fluttered open and a heavy groan left her frame. Skyhold. Her bed within the fortress exactly as she’d left it, her meager belongs placed on display. She avoids the magic humming through its stone walls at all costs, afraid of what she’ll have to confront, but there’s a comfort to the familiar, even if it’s not her home._

_“Ah, Ser Barris, I believe the Lady is awake for visitors if you’re interested.” Solas’ voice swirled through the air as the memory crept in gently, a thin veil draped over her weary and sensitive frame even as she yearned to push it away and protect herself. “…you are resting. Try not to overexert yourself.” The mage’s knowing grin horrified her then but caused a smile to spread across her features as he saw what she’d been blind to._

_Barris sat at her side, strong, the worry lessened in his eyes before he learned what waited at the other side of the Fade. This time she didn’t lower her own in timid questioning, no fear of the Templar’s rejection. She traced every detail, unashamed for the yearning that filled her at his remembered presence. The long line of his jaw, sharp stubble running its length, hands shaking in her presence- she hadn’t remembered that. She’d been so consumed in her own losses she’d ignored what was within reach._

_“I’m thankful it was you watching over me. You didn’t have to turn yourself against your men...” The words flowed like music through her lips, the script laced into her bones as her toes retraced the path of history._

_“I could never let anything happen to you…”_

_Her heart broke as she stared into the Templar’s shining emeralds piercing hers unexpectedly. She’d denied the obvious, the choice she couldn’t make, as she’d struggled to find her footing in this new world. But there was only one name to label the emotion overfilling his every movement toward her._

_In the past, she’d reached for him, but Solas’ untimely joke had arrived seconds later to disrupt any plan she’d entertained. This was her dream now and she could control the outcome._

_Barris’ eyes opened briefly in surprise as her fingers slid between his resting on the edge of the bed. Idalya sighed at the lack of his overwhelming warmth missing within the Fade. Her fingers felt a tingling sensation of movement against her skin, but it wasn’t enough to convince her mind that the Templar was there._

_At the sweep of her thumb across the ridge of his knuckles, Barris’ eyes hooded, his pupils widening as a deeper emotion spread through him, his hand gripping hers tighter as he leaned closer unable to avoid her pull._

_Is this the outcome if she’d closed the distance between them all those months ago? Or just some conjuring of her fantasies?_

_Knowing the weight both carried upon their shoulders, Barris probably would have bolted, her touch a violent electricity that burnt him; unprepared for his dreams to manifest in front of him. She’d been so disoriented at Skyhold; Alistair’s loss a fresh and unidentifiable wound inside her as his man had held out his broken and vulnerable heart to her._

_The vision flickered at the surge of her pain and she felt Solas’ presence draw near._

_“Better…,” the mage commented but left his statement unfinished as he registered the memory fading before her, her fingers reaching out to hold on to the illusion that slipped away like the real man had as tears filled her eyes._

_Dal’s hands fell numbly to her side, a single tear escaping down her cheek as Solas waited without pressuring. His feet making no sound, he closed the distance to sit on the corner of the mattress; the Fade betraying no force as his weight sunk in._

_“It was the first time we were alone.” She whispered as though the spirits around could not hear, were not allowed to witness her confessions. “I missed so many chances.”_

_“You were not ready,” Solas corrected, his cerulean eyes kind as her lavender ones met his._

_“That’s why you sent that servant barging in!” The laughter healed her soul, even as her heart fractured._

_Solas shrugged as he assessed the details around them in tamed amusement. “The servant was less likely to take the brunt of your fury than me.” He admitted as she smiled again, a softness spreading across his features despite his lingering exhaustion._

_The mage opened his mouth to speak, then shook his head lightly sweeping away whatever idea had come to him. “It’s time for your watch to begin.” He stated softly as Idalya nodded, finding a strength that her teacher deemed her capable enough to follow her lead as much as it tempted him to stand in front of her._

_*****_

Her side still fucking hurt. Not just a dull or constant ache. _Pain._ Lifting the edge of her tunic she cringed at the swollen pink stripe up her side bisecting the remaining scar of the assassins wound she’d gained at Adamant. She pushed the memory away as fast as it arrived, not able to think of having her past standing so close as she’d almost slipped away another time to her death.

The camp was quiet. No lingering traces of darkspawn since the Inquisition soldiers arriving to make camp took away any corpses surrounding the fight. She registered the soft, and the not gentle snores of her team as she reached a sitting position. Her lips curling back over teeth as she hissed at the pain rolling through her right side as she rose to her feet.

It was a decent camp. Minor tradesmen sharpening blades, mending armor, and patching clothes while the warriors regained their strength. Traveling with the Inquisition had its perks over being an outcast Warden hiding from Loghain’s forces.

She recognized the outline of the Lieutenant sitting on the stairs, sword in hand, as he stared at the collapsed seal awaiting whatever may try to force its way back through, unable to rest knowing how fragile their safety remained. It was a mood she understood.

Her steps shuffled but were controlled as she registered enough noise to not startle the dwarf from his watch. With a heavy sigh, she perched a seat next to him, her eyes tracing every edge of the seal, analyzing every weakness the darkspawn could exploit.

“She _rises_ ,” Renn uttered softly, a grin pulling gently at the corner of his lips, shifting the angle of his abundant tattoos in the moving reflection of the fire. He was handsome, far more charismatic than any member of the Legion had the right to be. “Thank you for putting yourself in the path of that genlock,” he said after a pause as he contemplated something beyond them from the thaig.

“I was, _am,_ a Grey Warden. This is what we do.” She lamented, her mind flashing through the faces of those who’d never walked away from their own darkspawn encounters. The lights extinguished as the corruption destroyed all.

Renn nodded, his eyes boring straight ahead. “I’ve met my share of Wardens down here. All of them were killers. But you… _you_ jumped in front of one of our own without regard to yourself.” His voice was raw, worn from the fight spanning many uncounted nights as the darkspawn funneled into the Deep Roads. “You saved Valta, and I am in your debt.”

With an understanding smile, Dal turned to assess the man, the memory of Barris clear in her mind as she watched the equal measures of worry and relief abound in the dwarf’s features. “You love her.” She stated plainly.

Renn’s eyes widened in shock. He subconsciously leaned away from her as a silent chuckle shook her chest and she winced from the shooting stab of pain.

“Warden- my _duty_ is to the Legion, protecting my world. Valta has worked at my side for three years documenting our struggles and achievements. When her time ends, she will return to Orzammar. I am a dead man.” His voice trailed off as he stared beyond the campfire. “What is dead cannot love.”

“And yet your dead heart still yearns for her.” The truth _hurt._ A lingering and undeterred torment that refused to be ignored no matter how fiercely she pushed it away.

Renn cleared his throat as he pushed down his emotions. “It _cannot_. I said goodbye to the world, watched my funeral as I was reborn to the dead within these roads. I took my vow to repay my father‘s debts, for my family to keep their caste.  _This_ is my life now.” He swallowed harshly, his attempts to convince himself failing under the elf’s knowing eye.

“Of course,” she agreed quietly knowing you can’t steer a person from the only path they see forward. “Take it from someone who got a second life- _you_ only have one, and you didn’t leave it behind in Orzammar. It’s with you screaming in your veins to follow what it wants. It’s annoying, but it’s not always _wrong.”_

Dal chuckled lightly as she rose, her teeth clenched once more as pain radiated across her spine. “But what do I know,” she shrugged, turning to leave. “I must have misunderstood why your eyes were the first she found after thinking she’d die.”

She didn’t turn back, but after reaching out to take Barris’ hand within hers in the Fade, she already knew the expression on the man’s face. Of a man able to reach out and dare to clasp at hope for the first time that he could remember.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and copious amounts of caffeine keep your local fanfic writer motivated and moving!


	5. The Chapter Where the Inquisition is Requested

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inquisition receives a request that Leliana cannot deny.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! 
> 
> Thank you for everyone's patience. To those who didn't know, I had major surgery two weeks ago to remove a massive tumor in my sinus and behind my eye that had been dissolving my teeth from the inside out- yeah, you read that correctly. The good news is that pathology came back clean and I'm healing, the bad news is that I had a difficult time under anesthesia and have been struggling with some unusual memory issues. I forgot how to spell Idalya's name when I returned to writing, I couldn't remember the names of most of the locations in the game, etc. So I've had to do a lot of research this week to refresh my brain, but I've been plugging away every day this week to get this put together. 
> 
> It's good to be back! <3

_Lady Inquisitor,_

_Due to our fragile alliance at Adamant, I must request your assistance._

_The Tevinter cult you seek, I have reason to believe has infiltrated the Royal Palace in Denerim. Seeing as the Inquisition knows far more concerning them, I ask for your help in hunting down these spies before they do here what happened in Redcliffe. All Ferelden would be grateful for your noble gesture._

_Queen Anora Theirin_

*****

_Tap, tap, tap._

_Tap, tap, tap._

The Spymaster’s nails descended on the War Table, a repeating agitated pattern echoing through the room while her questioning eyes retraced Anora’s words, searching for any hidden meaning amongst the harmless phrases.

The Commander rested his sulking shoulders against the massive and ornate carved wooden chair he’d been unable to move from for hours as his energy waned. “Why did the Inquisitor send this to us?” He pinched the bridge of his nose tightly, another headache imploding within his skull.

With narrowed eyes, Josephine’s head lifted from her piles of lists as she glared at her peer still buried in ignorance.

“Because she’s not going, Cullen,” Leliana interjected with haste before Cullen was the victim of the Ambassador’s misguided building rage.

The befuddled man opened his lips to speak, and she sighed in relief when a knock at the entry derailed any further comment.

“ _Enter.”_

A maroon-cheeked soldier entered in exasperation as Morrigan pushed her way past the bewildered boy at the annoyance of waiting at a man’s whim to enter. The witch crossed the room, not halting until her clacking steps silenced at the edge of the War Table. The Spymaster restrained her eye roll before the woman delivered anything useful while hailing the soldier to deliver notes within the fortress she held within her fingers.

“I have a location for Corypheus.” Morrigan sneered, reading her thoughts as the soldier escaped the witch’s vicinity.

All three advisers straightened in their chairs, the prideful woman in command of their full attention.

“Sifting through the remains of Adamant that the Warden’s didn’t burn,” she noted bitterly, “I came across the word _vir’abelasan_ multiple times. I found it again in intercepted Venatori notes. Roughly translated it means _sadness_ in Elven or a place of sadness. After analyzing the Warden’s notes, I believe this _vir’abelasan_ is Corypheus’ ultimate goal. We must locate it, but I am in the dark regarding its exact location.”

It wasn’t the best news she could deliver, but it was far from the worst. Following Adamant, they’d had little direction in finding Corypheus. Her network had homed in on the magister’s devoted, carefully monitoring their trails. It was only a matter of time before someone slipped up and unveiled the monster’s sanctuary.

“I’ll send word to my scouts that any information gained about a _vir’abelasan_ will be directed to you.”

“Excellent work, Mistress Morrigan,” Josephine chimed in, “All our resources are available for your search.”

The witch stuck her unwavering chin in the air, hearing what she was waiting for. “I inquire if communication is possible with the apostate traveling with Idalya. I understand he is an expert in ancient elven relics and the Fade.”

Leliana shook her head as Morrigan attempted to glean information about Dal without directly asking for it. “We’ve had no communication since they descended from their last camp. When Solas returns, he will be at your disposal.” The cruelest torture she could inflict on Morrigan would be to station Solas at her side.

Heavy steps approached from the hall, the door opening as Knight-Commander Barris entered, duty weighing heavily across his features. The Templar had withdrawn from most activities outside required duties. The Spymaster’s carefully trained nose twitched as the heavy scent of lyrium hovering around the soldier standing at attention before them. Her eyes glanced in Cullen’s blanched direction knowing the scent would be far stronger for him.

“Nightingale,” The Knight-Commander addressed while watching Morrigan intently from the corner of his eye. Barris wasn’t a jumpy Templar by any measure, but in her opinion, he was smart to not trust the witch.

With Anora’s request sent directly to the Inquisitor, it would require a formal dignitary trip to Denerim, requiring Templar escort through lands still struggling with the remaining final participants of the Templar-Mage war. Since she was taking Evelyn’s place, the Knight-Commander would remain at her side through the entire visit.

“Ser Barris, I understand there are unique _discomforts_ for you regarding this mission. We will treat your decision with nothing but respect. Knight-Captain Rylen or the Commander would be suitable substitutes in your place.”

Cullen scoffed quietly from the corner at being volunteered without request, his hands clutched tightly to the edge of the War Table, knuckles paled by the force.

“No, Rylen needs to be here for Templar Hawke,” Barris’ eyes traced awkwardly to the Commander before returning to meet hers, the emerald of his illuminated with a shimmering shade of wavering blue. “No offense, Cullen, but you would collapse after one smite.” He swallowed roughly, gripping the sword at his side as the Commander feigned offense unconvincingly. “Yes, there are _unique_ issues I have with the place and their leaders, but they are ones I’d rather not discuss in-depth with the Inquisitor should anything happen in my absence.”

The Templar wasn’t misguided in his estimation of Evelyn’s reaction to a failure by her appointed officials.

“Understood, Knight-Commander, will you be ready to depart for Denerim by dawn?” She was reluctant to leave Skyhold but being in the castle's heart would allow her to acquire intelligence her scouts could gain no other way. It was an unprecedented opportunity she could not deny the Inquisition.

“Why are you going to Denerim?” Morrigan interrupted before the Templar with the chilled eyes could respond.

She considered telling the witch to _fuck off_ and mind her own business then decided on a whim to get the apostate’s opinion of their summons. “Queen Anora has written asking for Inquisition assistance with Venatori spies within the castle.”

“That’s preposterous!” The witch chided. “Not only is there _nothing_ of importance in Denerim, all that’s required to upend the royal family is to throw a bottle of wine down a well and watch the King go tumbling after!”

Her and Cullen’s chuckles escaped in unison as Josephine glared in their direction. The Commander cleared his throat as he studied notes spread along the table while Leliana smiled kindly at her friend’s frustration.

“I’m coming with you!” The witch blurted out. All turned to take measure of the woman’s intent.

“I don’t think that’s a good…” Leliana started.

Morrigan continued, not listening, as usual. “I have betrayed the trust of a dear friend with my actions as of late. Simple apologies will not suffice for the wounds I have caused. I request the opportunity to show remorse through action, so that _friend_ may trust me again.”

There was an honesty lingering within her honey eyes that caused Leliana’s to dip away from their sincerity. Traveling with a powerful witch and Templar wasn’t the worst plan to fight Venatori she’d considered, even if neither were optimal companions. Morrigan was also right- words would never be enough for Dal to forgive her.

_Who was she to deny someone else the redemption they craved?_

“Granted. We leave with a chosen squad of soldiers that Cullen will appoint at dawn.” She allowed her deadened eyes to meet the witch’s. “Don’t make me regret the decision, Morrigan.”

The meeting dispersed in silence as all headed their separate directions.

****

The stone key clacked loudly within the metal door, as Morrigan locked the heavy wooden door in place behind her. At the end of the room stood her _eluvian_ , the fabric of its glass surrounded by a throbbing verdant cloud of magic.

The mirror had remained unsettled after springing to alert in the dead of night days ago. A powerful force moved at an agonizing sluggish pace on the other side whose strength spilled through the functioning gates of the Crossroads. It wasn’t the first time she’d sensed another passing on the ancient roads, but never one so strong that she’d recoiled in self-preservation as the presence drew near. 

Reaching out a thin hand, she trailed it along the outer curves of the relic, the tips of her fingers sliding around carved grooves of ancient wood, soothing it like an anxious child. The glow dampened as she reassured it that she would not open its gate to any seeking to harm it.

Content with the subdued humming, Morrigan strode to her bed, grabbing her traveling sack. She tucked what few clothes she owned inside before sliding her mother’s black grimoire on top. Her fingers traced the binding of the dust-filled volume, wishing there was a way to repress the discomfort in her heart the book always brought forth. It had been a gift from Idalya after defeating Flemeth in battle- a fight she had hidden from, unable to face the woman who’d raised her without her knees colliding in terror.

In a leather pouch, she placed healing vials and the watered-down rations of lyrium given out to mages in Skyhold. The earthquakes Dal investigated had greatly hurt the Inquisition’s supply, which made the army of Templars inside the fortress a ticking time bomb as their power source whittled down.

With everything else packed, Morrigan reached beneath the straw-stuffed mattress of the bed and pulled a pulsing violet-toned vial that hummed from her palm. The potion swirled and contorted within its container without help, a spiral of twisting shades of purple refusing to mix.

Using a spare piece of linen, she wrapped the vial tightly protecting the glass. With a wave of her hand, a glyph appeared brightly over the bundle before the light quelled, the magic held within dampened while unopened, allowing it to pass undetected by the Templar and prevent him from interfering with her plans.

*****

_Nine days_.

Those nine days on horseback progressed slower than any Leliana could remember. She’d been a fool to believe they’d travel in silence to complete this mission and return.

Two hours into the trip, she’d expected Barris to turn his horse and gallop back to Skyhold as Morrigan tortured him through every embarrassing question she could entertain regarding his former relationship with Idalya. The Templar had shown incredible strength of character in ignoring her obvious attempts to fuel his anger, but after nine days she’d worn him down to where he rode ahead of their soldiers in silence.

Denerim differed from the smoking pile of rubble she remembered. The broken and scalded streets replaced with a blossoming center of activity. Children darted back and forth across the stone roads, parents pulling them to shoulders to see the diplomatic Inquisition marching through the bustling streets.

The royal castle towered overhead as they approached the entry gates, Leliana kept her eyes pointed away from Fort Drakon looming in the distance. All her memories were still fresh of fighting on the fortress even after the passing of ten long years.

Her thighs groaned as she hopped down from her mount, pain radiating through her lower extremities. She’d become soft resting inside Skyhold. The soldiers stood at attention guarding the front gate of the castle, golden mabaris sculpted onto their armor.

“Inquisition. I was unaware of your visit.” The soldier stated; suspicion clear on his face. Ferelden suffered through much the last decades and it had shaped their interactions with the rest of the world.

“Discretion was requested,” she acknowledged as her army and companions waited behind in silence.

From within her amethyst cape, Leliana withdrew Anora’s letter, the broken crimson seal recognizable to any within the kingdom. With a half bow, the soldier accepted the letter in his hands, unrolling the parchment delicately before nodding to an unseen soldier above to open the gates.

Lumbering wooden walls opened revealing the castle’s courtyard as Leliana motioned for Morrigan and Barris to follow, the witch walked to her side while Barris followed apprehensively behind. Despite Anora’s request, they were not trusted allies and she would not lead their soldiers within the castle’s gates unless required.

At an echoing clang of steel in the distance, Leliana’s fingertips glanced over the dagger hidden beneath her cloak as the soldier escorted the party to the Ferelden throne. A nostalgic laugh rang out into the warm summer air and the Spymaster relaxed as they turned toward building’s entrance, a training ring to their right where soldiers circled around a familiar shirtless form, sword in hand, as he redirected their advancements one at a time.

The months following Adamant had been kind to the King. The long locks of rust-colored hair cut short, unruly beard trimmed tightly against the line of his jaw. Alistair’s bloated softness had been chiseled slowly away, the warrior digging itself out of the poisoned prison it spent a decade trapped within.

Leliana cocked an approving eye in his direction as Morrigan rolled hers in disgust. Turning to block a blow, the King’s eye caught her amethyst robes and the distinct witch at her side. Alistair’s step faltered, and he grimaced as a wooden sword struck him on his flank.

“Stand down!” He hollered, holding a hand gingerly over the rising welt at the base of his lungs as he approached his two former companions, wiping a rolling stream of sweat from his eyes with the back of a tanned forearm. 

“I see Evelyn was too busy to grace us with her presence.” Alistair cleared the courtyard until he peered up at the women lingering on the staircase above him.

Leliana shrugged. “With her current alliances, what did Anora expect? That Evelyn, with Gaspard on her heels, would drop in for afternoon tea? Evelyn was wise not to respond on her own.” It pained her to acknowledge the moments Evelyn understood her job better than most of her advisers and this was one instance. She wouldn’t put it past Gaspard to have an assassin cut the Inquisitor down within the palace to wage the war he salivated for.

“Fair,” the King admitted, a grin pulled at the corner of his lips as his eyes glanced over Morrigan. He looked more and more like the naïve boy they’d marched through Ferelden with. “Inside the doors, you’ll find our house steward. He’ll bring you to your accommodations while I inform Anora of your arrival.”

Leliana had expected to stay within the city, but they would consider it rude to turn down a direct offer from the King. Plus, she’d have more time and flexibility to dig for information.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to wash up before my wife orders me too.” He laughed softly to himself as he turned to leave. “It’s nice to have you back in Denerim… even _you,_ Morrigan.”

The witch scoffed as the King and his soldiers entered the castle through a far doorway. Leliana peered over her shoulder at Barris standing out of sight, a tightness laced across his entire jaw. This entire trip had the makings of a disaster.

*****

Two hours later, after a soaking bath, Leliana felt human again. The stench of the road washed from her limbs and hair. Checking the mirror, her index finger ran gently across the fine lines encircling her eyes. Dal looked not a day over twenty, but time had been harsher to her. Worry creased her skin, a network of stress written into flesh. She sighed, tucking the ends of her auburn hair behind her ears as she stared at the tired woman glaring back in her reflection.

Exiting her private villa, her feet stuttered at Barris standing at attention. His armor was polished and face freshly shaved, a fresh hue of aquamarine hovering through his eyes. He made a striking sight in his Knight-Commander armor. She was disappointed on Idalya’s behalf that the Warden was missing both her former flames in fine form.

“Where’s Morrigan?”

The Templar’s jaw twitched in response. “She’s been wandering the halls casting every location spell known. She awaits you in the library.”

The Spymaster rolled her eyes, proceeding down the hall with Barris following a strides length behind. Morrigan stood ahead through the library’s door, leaning against a bookcase, arms clutched tightly against her ribcage.

“Took you long enough, _let’s go!”_ The witch stepped away from the bookcase, squeezing out the door toward the throne room.

Barris stiffened at Morrigan’s hostility, her blatant disrespect for their designated leader. He felt in line behind Leliana as they followed the witch’s stomping path towards the massive wooden entry in the distance.

A servant awaited them at the entrance, crimson crushed velvet adorning this tailored tunic. The massive doors opened, and the Inquisition followed him inside. Vaulted ceilings ornamented with Ferelden’s swaying banners ran the length of the throne room.

Leliana’s ears were greeted with a melodic laugh from the Queen in the distance. Seated on her throne, a cup of tea in her hands, a genuine smile gracing Anora’s lips at a freshly bathed Alistair leaning on the corner of her chair, wearing more suitable clothing for meeting royal guests. A relaxed grin filled his features as he recollected his earlier training session for the entertained Queen. The King leaned forward, whispering something out of the Spymaster’s range and Anora laughed again, bracing a hand against her smirking lips at the sound.

Leliana could not control herself as her eyes widely met Morrigan’s and found the same confusion unhidden in the witch’s gaze. Some dynamic had shifted between Ferelden’s royalty in the weeks following Adamant. In the meetings before the battle, the married pair could barely stand the other's presence and Alistair had disgraced Anora repeatedly in his interactions with Orlais before sneaking into the Inquisition’s camp and almost brought war upon his country.

“I present the representatives for the Inquisition.” The servant called out.

Anora turned and her smile faded, her cold countenance returning as her eyes met Leliana’s. Now _that_ was the Queen she had expected on their arrival. The King’s expression hardened, a fist balled at his side, recognizing the Knight-Commander trailing behind them.

“Thank you for coming to our aid, _Inquisition_ ,” Anora spoke as they reached the bottom of the throne, the acknowledgment of their leader’s absence clear in the Queen’s welcome.

“Leliana, Morrigan… Knight-Commander: welcome back to Denerim.” Alistair struggled to push out the words, his brows pressed tightly together. Anora quickly flicked her measuring eyes toward her husband before returning them to analyze their party.

“The Inquisition will do everything it can to ensure Ferelden’s safety.” Leliana hoped her meaning was understood to all in attendance regardless of their lingering frustrations with fate. “We will get to work as quickly to discover the source of your infiltration…”

Morrigan scoffed, interrupting her, a cocky expression written across her hawkish features. “No need. I’ve already discovered them. They’re in the kitchens.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and commenting! <3


	6. The Chapter Where We Meet the Sha-Brytol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As their travels bring the team deeper into the far reaches of the Deep Roads, they discover a powerful enemy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Slowly getting back in the routine of writing after surgery, which has been rough honestly, just I miss the characters and it feels good to write again even if I find it more difficult than before. I've been working on a couple of chapters at a time so hopefully, they'll start rolling out more timely. 
> 
> Thank you all for your infinite patience!

_You join the Legion knowing you’re already dead. You don’t fear the killing blow._

An airless thud ricocheted through the cavern as the projectile met its grisly mark. Lieutenant Renn staggered forward, the glowing end of the bolt puncturing his armor. A crimson stream glistened black in the dim light as it ran the length of his spine. The dwarf’s knees buckled as his life dripped onto the stone below.

Idalya didn’t need to check the collapsing man’s wounds to know he’d soon depart, and she’d be useless to help. The assailant who’d fired the bolt reloaded their crossbow as others, with their pulsing blue armor, pointed weapons in their direction and inched forward. The Warden blocked out Valta’s cries as the Shaper scurried to Renn’s side as the man collapsed hard to the floor.

“Solas,” the mage’s mana burst forth at her summons bathing them in hovering verdant light, “we will need all the barriers you can cast. Sera: take out their distance capability. We can’t have another bolt getting fired.”

The rogue shot without delay and a glowing warrior crumpled in the distance, an arrow masterfully placed through the eye slot of their helmet.

“Bull- with me. There’s something _wrong_ with these weapons. Be careful.” The Qunari moved silently at her side, his ax clutched within his massive grip.

Moving closer to the warriors coated in shimmering lines of sapphire, their size became obvious- _dwarfs._ They were like none she’d encountered in the Deep Roads before. Her mana recognized the twinkling stripes coating their skin, armor, and weapons. _Lyrium_. Pure lyrium inlaid on all aspects.

In Varric’s _Tales of the Champion,_ there was an elven warrior with lyrium stripes running the length of their flesh. The application had almost killed him, wiping his memory. She wondered if these dwarfs experienced something similar or if they were an entirely other species.

The lyrium strengthened their weapons, but their eyes remained vulnerable as Sera decimated their ranged ranks, by the time Idalya and Bull reached melee range, the elf was dueling with the last remaining archer. Swinging her sword, the Warden angled her aching right side away. The sword struck and vibrated off the dwarf’s lyrium armor sending a crippling numbness the length of her forearm.

“Bull- aim for joints,” she ducked a blow towards her shoulder, “Their armor is impenetrable.”

A strangled cry rang out beside her, as Bull removed a dwarf’s arm by the shoulder. It flopped to the ground uselessly as the Qunari swung for their unguarded knees.

“Thanks for the tip, boss!” Bull hollered out as the dwarf landed to the ground before he brought the killing blow down upon their neck.

Before Idalya could swing for the next dwarf within reach, a mighty emerald fist bathed in coursing light rose from the trembling ground before the magic flattened the assailant to the ground, their joints crushing on impact. She watched Solas’ arm lower, eyes blinding in his anger, as his rift magic summoned a pillar of stone, crushing another of their foes into the ceiling of the cavern with a stomach-lurching _crunch_.

A vibration shimmered amongst their opponents and the dwarfs retreated without haste further into the network of tunnels. Bull lunged to follow their path, but Dal held out her hand blocking him- their work was not done.

Valta was on her knees hovering over Renn’s unmoving corpse. He’d passed quickly into nothing within the safety of the Shaper’s arms.

“You deserved better.” She whispered, moving an errant piece of hair from his ghostly eyes piercing beyond the stone above. “Renn never wanted this life.” She shook her head disgusted with the realization. “He was a _cobbler_. A good one. He joined the Legion to pay his father’s debts. It kept his mother and brother from losing their caste. The poor and desperate here often sacrifice themselves for their family’s futures.” She spoke to no one as she stared in disbelief.

Idalya moved quietly as she returned, taking a knee in respect for Valta’s grief as she flinched from the radiating pain through her side. “Renn was a good man. We will honor his sacrifice.”

Valta wiped a trail of tears from her eyes. “He always seemed… _indestructible_.” She shook off her grief like a layer of dust as she remembered her purpose. “The armor on these warriors have lyrium woven directly into the metal. It’s _bonded_ to their skin. Impossible to remove, but I know what we’d find underneath. These are dwarves. Renn was killed by our own kind.”

“It took one bolt. Renn never stood a chance.” Valta had seen the fatal wound, but she needed someone to tell her she couldn’t have changed his fate. 

“The bolt was glowing. Their weapons could also be infused with lyrium.” The Shaper returned her gaze to her lost comrade in desperation. “I won’t leave Renn like this. We must return him to the Stone. _Atrast tunsha, salroka,”_ with a wavering hand she shut his eyes to grant him the peace he’d earned.

_I’ll see this through Renn, I promise._

*****

Dal leaned against the stone wall while Bull dug a shallow grave for Lieutenant Renn within the cavern. The throbbing pain from her side demanded she double over with gasping breath, but she forced herself upright, unwilling to show weakness to those already grieving.

“ _Show me_.”

At any other time Solas’ sudden appearance would have startled her with a scream, but now her eyes lazily tracked his location as she contemplated collapsing into the Void.

“I don’t have to show you _anything_.” She mumbled defiantly, a stubborn child at her core. 

Solas remained unimpressed with her glibness. “You were hurt in battle, let me see the wounds”

Dal snorted. “I was not injured, thank you very much. I know how to defend myself.” She tried to calculate the outcome of this conversation if she told him the truth, that her wound from saving Valta would not heal. Even now she felt the moisture gathering inside her armor as the wound continually wept.

No humor lived within the ovals of the mage’s eyes and she was too tired to hide from his knowing gaze. Unbuckling the side of her breastplate, she gasped as the gripping pressure released from the wound and she staggered on her feet, Solas’ reaching out to steady her against the wall, his cerulean eyes wide. He swore quietly in Elven at what the Warden had contemplated hiding.

The wound from blocking the genlock’s path was reopening along a barely holding scar, a steady trickle of crimson running down her flank inside her armor. The elf’s eyes narrowed at the increasing smell of corruption from the wound as he lifted her linen shirt delicately to press his cool hand against her burning flesh.

The Warden almost sunk to her knees as the waves of healing passed from his fingers into the wound, a wave of nausea crashing against her. “ _This may be fatal. This is no ordinary wound, Solas_ ,” she whispered under her breath to keep her team’s attention on Renn’s burial. “You will need to continue without me, you must complete the mission.”

Solas rolled his eyes as his hands grew brighter, his magic passing into her faster and less organized than usual. Dal sighed as the world’s spinning slowed as a sensation besides crippling pain, moved through her flank. She rested her head against the wall and breathed calmly, appreciative to find some relief.

“This team goes _nowhere_ without you, _Asha,_ ” he straightened his tunic as Idalya tightened the buckles on her breastplate. “You are for more important than drugs for Templars.” Acid coated his words, and she rolled her eyes in his response, finding enough strength to push herself from the wall. “No more hiding injuries. If I’m to respect your leadership, you need to prioritize yourself and health.

“Yeah, fine.” She gritted out and Solas’ face hardened.

Moving from the stone wall, the mage’s hands gripped her shoulders painfully forcing her back against the stone as her violet eyes snapped open in surprise.

“I’m not kidding, _Asha_ , either show some care for your preservation, or I ensure the Commander and Spymaster keep you inside Skyhold until Corypheus is dead.” Solas snarled.

She’d pushed the exhausted elf too far this time- this was no empty threat. “Okay. You win. I’ll ask for help…” The mage looked relieved as he released his grip and turned to help Bull in the distance, “ _Dad.”_ She whispered under her breath.

“I can hear you.” Solas called out behind him.

Idalya rolled her eyes as she tightened the leather straps of her armor.

*****

The travelers walked in silence after burying the Lieutenant’s body and returning him to the Stone. Idalya had prepared to set out in a few hours to allow Valta time to grieve, but the Shaper was the first one packed and ready to set out with enthusiasm much to the Warden’s confusion.

Everyone has their own way of dealing with grief.

The descent through the Deep Road tunnels was endless, and the quakes intensified as they drew closer to their origin point. Lyrium veins grew exposed from all the walls and ceiling, a glowing and thriving magical forest. Valta walked ahead with Sera and Bull telling stories of Orzammar’s past and where they traveled now, the _Bastion of the Pure_.

Dal and Solas’ silence was only broken by his frequent inquiries on her health. In their hours of walking, they’d had to stop twice for the mage to pour healing into the puckering scar as it threatened to breach open. Any hope she had of returning to the surface was quickly dissolving away.

Passing through an empty cavern, Dal felt a dull pulse of unusual magic reach towards her mana which swirled through her chest in response. She turned from the others and noticed a pathway carved from the rock leading into a dark hallway.

“I don’t think we should vary from the path…” Solas warned but, as usual, Dal had already entered.

The hall opened into a small cavern and she had her sword in hand as the strong scent of iron in the air reached her nose. Slaughtered animals littered the floor, their throats cut, blood seeping across the stone floor. The walls were covered in symbols handwritten in blood and freshly burning candles. A massive broken mirror stood as the focal point of the room. Dal clenched her eyes as the carnage before her was replaced with a room of dead elves, the memory so visceral that a gasp escaped through her lips.

Solas followed into the room. His eyes narrowed while tracing the symbols on the wall leading to the mirror where his brows lowered tightly on his forehead. Bile rolled over Dal’s tongue and she used the bitter taste to clear her mind.

“These are fresh, Solas. Some bodies are still warm. Was this the dwarves we encountered?” The mage’s eyes were glued to the massive mirror and the equally large menacing bloody symbol on the wall beside it. Idalya spotted recognition in his eyes.

“This is not the work of the _Sha-Brytol_ ” Solas’ mumbled quietly.

Valta had discovered stories carved into the rocks as they’d continued their travels, the word _Sha-Brytol_ was repeated many times in an ancient version of the dwarven language. They now knew their opponents name, but not their purpose.

His eyes narrowed tightly, and Dal felt a presence stir around them. “Something is here.”

Her vision blinked before the Arcane Horror rose to its full form filling a corner of the room, the smell of sulfur and Fade strong from his rotting robes. A blinding emerald cage formed around the demon, crushing it as it snarled and desperately struggled to summon its own magic. The cage faltered briefly as Solas’ power flickered and the Horror broke free, it’s enraged eyes focused on her.

She hadn’t thought, instinct taking root within her. Extending her shaking hand, flames exploded from her fingertips igniting the demon fully as it screamed in pain. A giant magic green hand sprung to grab the demon before smashing it against the symbol-coated wall at full force. The demon broke against the stone and its corpse fell limply to the ground as its magic dissipated to the Fade.

“Are you okay?” Solas’ lungs took gasping breaths as he approached, taking her hands and rotating them palm up, he looked pleased to find only minor irritation along her fingers where flames had just left.

She nodded as her hand throbbed under his tight grip. His power had faltered because of how much he’d needed to heal her since leaving camp. Even surrounded by lyrium, the mage was reaching his limits to protect her. A weakened state could get them killed.

“An Arcane Horror?” She prayed her eyes had deceived her, the last time she’d faced one had been sprinting through the bloodied halls of Kinloch.

“Yes,” Solas confirmed already knowing her next question.

“But that would mean…”

“Yes, a mage was here recently based on the strength of the demon.”

Idalya was stunned into silence. There was so much more to this mission than they had discovered. First the broken seal, Lieutenant Renn had been lost, they’d discovered a foe unlike any she’d faced before, and now blood magic happening far within the Deep Roads where they’d been certain no others had traversed.

Solas’ eyes watched the broken mirror ahead with curiosity and a hint of sadness. It had an immaculate golden frame carved with ornate details.

“How did it get here?” She motioned toward the mirror that did not belong in the farthest reaches beneath the ground.

Solas knew what the object was, but she wasn’t certain he’d share the information without prompt.

“That, _Asha_ , is an _eluvian…”_

 _“_ Why is an Elven gateway down here?” She’d never seen one with her own eyes but had read about them in Varric’s book and heard Duncan’s stories of a corrupted one harming a Dalish clan.

Solas cocked his head to the side, the corner of his thin lips ticked up in a brief smile. “You know what an _Eluvian_ is?”

“ _Of course, I do_ ,” she’d omit Varric as her source to save herself a lecture.

He looked pleased as his eyes misted over as he stared past her. “ _Arlathan_ , for the mighty city it was, had no streets. _Eluvians_ created a vast network that allowed travel to every corner of Thedas. After the fall the great city, they were broken or fell to disrepair over the passage of time.”

“Do any still exist?”

Solas contemplated his answer before responding. “Less than once existed, but even one is enough to endanger the world if discovered by the wrong hands.”

With a lowered brow Dal motioned toward the blood symbol behind the broken mirror. “What does that stand for? It looks familiar.”

The mage shook his head moving towards the door where they’d entered. “Gibberish. Random Dalish symbols painted in no particular order.”

Dal frowned as she followed him back into the large cavern, their team was far ahead in the distance. Shrugging her shoulders, she hummed a soft tune under her breath as her footsteps fell in step with the beat of the rhythm. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for taking the time to read and comment. <3


	7. The Chapter Where the Inquisition Finds the Venatori

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morrigan knows where the Ventatori are hiding, but they're aware the Inquisition is there for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello dear readers! Hope everyone is doing well! <3
> 
> Life Update: surgery healing is progressing, but exhausting. We get keys for our new house next Friday, so I'm hoping to get two chapters posted before then before my internet gets wonky in the moving process.

“ _What?_ ” the group exclaimed. Their echoes bounced off the elevated ceilings of the throne room the repeating waves diminishing into a loaded silence.

“Excuse me? What did you just say?” Anora balked, her jaw lowered at the unsurprised witch’s revelation.

“While my  _comrades_ were indisposed, I scanned the boundaries of the castle.” She tilted her shoulders back, proud of her work. “The Venatori infiltrated your kitchen staff and are working there, as we speak.”

Alistair grabbed his jeweled sword from the side of his chair and headed toward the Inquisition members. Anora grabbed his freed hand as he moved to step away.

“Be careful,” she whispered to her husband, her eyes wide with an unidentifiable emotion clouded with much confusion.

“I’ll do no such thing,” he mumbled from the side of his mouth with a lopsided grin as the Queen rolled her eyes and released his hand from her desperate grip. “Let’s get this over with.”

The King avoided eye contact with Barris, and the Templar was thankful for that fact. Could the men remain civil after their losses at Adamant? No one was to blame for the outcome, but it didn’t make the wounds received ache less.

The Knight-Commander followed Morrigan closely, keeping Leliana and Alistair trailing a safe distance behind. The witch ducked in and out of small winding passageways where Barris struggled to follow in his hulking armor.

“Morrigan, do I even want to ask why you know the secret paths of my home?” Alistair called ahead.

The witch shrugged her bare shoulders. “You’d want to ask, but I’d suggest against it.”

An understanding smile glanced off Barris’ lips at the groan of frustration from the King. It was comforting to know Morrigan’s behavior wasn’t exclusive to him. He wouldn’t be surprised if the witch had traced the paths of the castle long before they’d arrived for this mission.

Morrigan paused, her body language relaxed as she motioned ahead. “On the left- there’s three inside. _They are waiting for us_.”

Barris ignored the pulse of ice that shimmered down his shine at her chilling words. He summoned the lyrium within his veins bringing it to the surface, his hands and sword glowing with a soft, pulsing, white light.

“It’s a trap,” Alistair finally caught up to the waiting group, chest heaving from the exertion, no longer the experienced traveler he’d been in his youth.

“It is,” Barris confirmed, regretting the decision to leave his helm and shield in his room. “Luckily, it’s my job to spring it.” He tightened his fist around the pommel of the sword that grew heavy within his grip, stepping past Morrigan to the closed door of the royal kitchens. “Ready?”

Leliana nodded in the back, eyes narrowed in the darkened corner of the hall veiling her daggers in hand as she waited beside the King.

“What’s the plan?” Alistair whispered; the uncertainty of his position clear in his question.

“The plan is to keep you alive, _your highness._ _”_

With a swing of an armored boot, Barris’ foot connected with the wooden door, which sprung open on its hinges, cracking against the stone wall it met. He’d assumed a magical glyph would be placed strategically behind the door to cause an immediate explosion, but the only sound was the vibrating echo from the clattering wood.

Taking a sharp intake of breath, Barris strode into the room, left hand extended with a glowing light summoned at his fingertips. He felt the mana swell in the room the second he progressed forward. Using his years of training, he pushed the silence out with his full strength in all surrounding directions as he closed the distance to the three forms collapsing to their knees.

Morrigan staggered behind him, hand clenched tightly to the wall at her side unable to move. She’d been collateral damage. There was no way to incapacitate the mages for questioning without subduing the _friendly_ witch as well.

Reaching the trio, he found two elves and a human shaking violently as he thickened the Fade into reality leaving the mages cut off and abandoned from their magic. With a practiced motioned he removed all daggers and amulets from their reach before rising to his feet and sighing as a sour metallic taste filled his mouth causing it to water uncomfortably from the diminishing lyrium in his system.

“Ser Barris?” The Spymaster’s voice brought him back to the moment, grounding him from the bitter overwhelming taste he was forced to swallow. “We must transport them _safely_.”

Someday he’d have a job where he wasn’t required to hurt people at the command of those who wouldn’t get their hands dirty. Though in Leliana’s case, she’d be far too willing to cut these people’s throats if she deemed them without value to their cause.

Better him than the bloodthirsty rogue.

Extending his left hand, he pulled the power for the incoming smite from deep within his stores- enough to incapacitate without killing. Then he heard it, a raspy whisper from the human curled into the fetal position, their hand gripped around something held tightly within their pocket.

“ _Praise_ _… Cory… pheus…”_

_Fuck._

Barris dove forward, his smite striking a second too late as the magical grenade detonated from the mage’s pocket, wrapping the room in waves of flames.

*****

_Maker._

_Everything hurts._

The tightness and burning ache across his skin pulled Barris toward consciousness. He was lying flat in a cool place as daylight dimmed through upper windows. The instinct to move and check his surroundings was strong, but pain and exhaustion through his limbs kept him confined to his position.

_When was the last time he had a break?_

“So, you and Anora, huh?” Leliana’s voice echoed from across the large room and the vaulted ceiling.

Alistair chuckled softly, “It may surprise you to discover she’s my _wife_. I’m frankly not sure if there’s anything more than that, but I’m trying harder for the sake of our kingdom.” The King sighed loudly. “As usual, it took Dal to remind me to no longer live in the past. I wish it was a lesson I could have reached on my own. I’ve always needed her compass to point me in the right direction, you think I would have grown more without her.”

Barris blood ran cold and sluggish through his veins at the mention of the Warden’s name. He’d blocked her name and face from his mind as much possible, lyrium blurring her features as his grieving heart still reached for her. The regret tinging the King’s words were too real, too fresh for him to face as he clenched his eyes tightly shut to block the memories of the last time he saw her face and the broken pieces of her soul that lingered within her eyes.

“Unfortunately, you idiots are two halves of a whole… just not the one you needed her to be.” Leliana answered, more empathetic than Barris had ever heard the chilling woman. “Without your title, she might have found some way to overcome duty, but we all know Ferelden was always her first love.”

The King chuckled softly; the sound muffled to Barris’ ears. “It’s petty of a King to be jealous of his own home because his girlfriend cared more for it than him.”

“That is true,” the Spymaster scoffed, “but she sacrificed herself to ensure you lived to rule it. I can think of no greater compliment she would give. She knew in her heart that you were the right path for Ferelden, even if you weren’t prepared to see it yourself.”

The two former friends remained in silence as Barris tested his grip by curling his hands into fists- they were sore, but all fingers were accounted for and moved properly.

_Fuck, everything hurt._

“I really let her down.”

Alistair’s voice startled him as it moved closer, and the Templar kept his eyes clenched for equal parts exhaustion and the awkward fact he was eavesdropping on a conversation between a King and one of his bosses about the woman both men were still in love with.

“We all did in some way,” Leliana responded, equipping her daggers into her many hiding spots.

“And how did the brave Templar _fail_ her?”

The hair on Barris’ neck rose at Alistair’s mention. He’d made a grave mistake pretending to be asleep through their conversation instead of making his presence known.

“He _didn_ _’t,_ ” his heart broke at the Spymaster’s response, “he loved her without conditions and made the mistake of trying to protect her. It was more than she could handle. She views any tether to this world to be a weakness that will stop her from making the decisions required of her. So, she ran away.”

The King huffed in the background. “How is she?”

“I have no idea,” Her words dripped with bitterness. “She fled for the Deep Roads before we could speak, and all Inquisition communication is channeled through the Cullen. If we could defeat Corypheus without her, I believe she’d fight through the darkspawn until she found eternal rest.”

Tears pricked beneath Barris’ closed eyes at her remarks. He’d feared the Warden would never return to Skyhold and recognized the Spymaster’s words as truth as he heard them.

“She told me she’ll die at Corypheus’ hand- we need to ensure that doesn’t happen.” There was a conviction to the King’s voice that had been missing through all their negotiations at Adamant.

“On that point, we are in agreement,” the Spymaster conceded. “The difficulty is her discovering that she’s so much more than just a sword- it’s a choice she needs to make on her own. The responsibilities placed on her and Evelyn’s shoulders would buckle anyone’s knees and send them fleeing.”

The King sighed as he stood and slid his sword into its scabbard. “We should locate Morrigan before she curses any remaining staff I have left. It’s hard to hire good employees.”

With a groan, the Spymaster followed Alistair out the door. “I shall begin preparations for our departure immediately.”

“You could always stay for a few days, it’s nice to see some _friendly-ish_ faces.” Their voices grew quiet as they moved further down a hallway.

“I’m not certain your wife shares the same nostalgia for our presence…” Leliana’s voice trailed off as they reached the border of his hearing.

Barris opened his eyes and stared at the lofty ceiling above. Their words were nothing he wasn’t aware of but hearing them spoken from the people Dal held closest to her heart had been devastating none the less. He’d spent the two months since Adamant trying to push her from his mind while he focused endlessly on his work, but it was a losing battle that forced him to admit how he loved her even if we understood he needed to let her go.

The Knight-Commander forced himself upright with a pained groan as he rolled his stiff shoulders. Skyhold held little for him beside his title, but he would prepare for the Inquisition’s departure and fulfill his duties until they reached the time when they all could lay down their swords which Barris feared he’d not live long enough to see. 

*****

_Commander-_

_Our mission was successfully completed, but not without sustaining injuries. Knight-Commander Barris fell victim to a magical grenade and was burned protecting the King. The royal healers healed most visible signs, but it will be a slow trek back for the Templar while he recovers._

_We will leave with haste as I have no interest in being a guest under the Queen_ _’s roof longer than necessary. Our team should arrive back no later than the end of next week._

_-Lady Nightingale_

_*****_

Morrigan located the Queen hovering in the exact place she’d hypothesized the woman would wait- the joint chamber between the royal’s bedchambers. She was curled in a chair, hair unwound from its daytime bun, nervously watching the sky glow with bursts of orange and reds as the sun sunk below the mountains ahead.

“Is the King all right?” Anora jumped to her feet as she registered Morrigan’s purposely heavy steps to alert the woman to her presence.

“He sustained minor burns since the Templar took the brunt of the explosion. I am no healer,” she lied with a steady expression, “so they are at your Healers now. I was sent to ensure your safety while the rest of the castle is examined for any additional Venatori presence.”

The Queen’s shoulders noticeably slumped in relief as she settled back into her chair, unquestioning the mage’s presence in her secured area. Turning her blue eyes back to Morrigan, her vision narrowed as she analyzed her.

“You’re the one that sent him flying across Thedas to find the Warden, aren’t you? He could have been  _killed_.” The Queen’s acid tone glanced off Morrigan as she was used to poorly veiled threats from weak people in power.

“Yes. He also omits the truth. I gave him a path to save him and Idalya years ago that he denied in his own selfishness.” She retorted. The witch steadied her impulses and drew a long breath to calm herself. “In hindsight, I see now that my actions were childish. But I stand behind the belief that they deserved to know of the other’s existence. They earned the right to make their own choice.”

“Like they did before? They made the choice not to save each other.” Anora snapped back, her venerability fighting its way to the surface faster than she’d expected the Queen to react.

“No, they both decided to die for _love_ without consulting the other. In hindsight, you know your husband would take my offer now without hesitation. Your life would have been much different if he had.”

Anora grew quiet as the what-ifs of her life passed before her tired eyes, the hint of wrinkles appearing at the outer corners.

Morrigan could smell her victory before the battle had begun. “I believe with time they would have grown beyond each other but were never allowed the chance.” She sniffed heavily before straightening her shoulders. “I’ve lived with the guilt of his refusal for a decade.”

Anora continued to glare at her with reddening slits for eyes. “Why have you sought me out to badger me with futures that did not come to pass?”

It had been too easy to rile up the Queen. Morrigan could only guess her weaknesses but was pleased how easily the woman walked trustingly into her trap.

“I came here to make amends for the disservice I have caused your family.” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t entirely the truth either.

“It’s a nice sentiment, but I’m not sure Alistair would agree it’s adequate,” Anora replied with a scoffing laugh.

Alistair knew better than to trust her. She’d never given him a reason to trust her and when she’d offered him the opportunity to save Dal, it had come back to bite her in the ass.

“That’s why I appeal to the smarter half of the party.” Reaching into the leather bag stashed on her hip, Morrigan carefully removed the pulsing purple vial whose magic she’d kept dampened as Anora raised a questioning brow at her meaning. “You are barren, are you not?”

Anora’s eyes widened before narrowing back into a rage as she jumped to her feet, fists clenched in shocked fury.

“That is _none_ of your business!” the Queen snarled.

“I make no judgments, your Highness. Your husband is a Grey Warden and you were unable to carry a child to term with your previous husband.”

The Queen’s cheeks blushed a bright crimson in hearing her failures spelled out before her.

“When nature fails us, sometimes magic offers us another path.” Morrigan held out the vial in her hand. “Ten years ago, your husband denied himself happiness and accepted a fate that didn’t belong to him. I believe you to be far wiser.”

The Queen’s feet moved of their own accord as she drew within inches of Morrigan. The witch could see the desperation in her eyes as her fingers reach out slowly to coast the edge of the carved glass, before grasping the bottle in her palm.

Anora’s tilted head glanced up at her, a curious glint appearing in her pale eyes. “How does it work?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for taking the time to read and comment on the story. <3
> 
> Next Chapter Preview: Dal and her team reach the bottom of their descent and discover that one of them is more than they appear. ;)


	8. The Chapter Where the Team Meets the Titan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew finally reaches their destination but, as usual, nothing happens the way they expect.

“ _We’ve found the titan… we’re standing inside of it.”_

Idalya’s jaw fell as the words exited Valta’s eager lips and assaulted her shocked ears. She could not deny the appalling truth of the statement scanning the depths of the vast cavern, untapped lyrium veins carving their course across the surface of the stone. She couldn’t dwell on the impact of these implications.

“ _Fuck._ You can’t be serious?” She winced, teeth sinking into a frayed bottom lip while twinges of pain ran the length of her flank. The throbbing pain hadn’t diminished as they traveled to their destination.

“I told you when we left the Thaig that things felt _different._ The Sha-Bertol have been attacking us because we entered an area where only the _pure_ can pass… _the body of a titan_.” Valta eye’s held unbridled elation. Dal focused away from the crazed look haunting the dwarf. She had too much experience with people who’d lost their souls to their life’s work.

Solas’ mana pushed to the surface, shuddering and spilling out around the pair as she spied the group of Sha-Bertol lumbering closer, prepared to clean any _impurities_ away from their sacred place. Her eyes flashed back to Valta’s, gauging if the dwarf was a threat if their mission required destroying a piece of Orzammar’s history. But she found the Valta’s held a silent understanding of what their future held.

“Whatever happens here, Orzammar needs to know what we saw.” The dwarf whispered.

Idalya pulled her sword from her scabbard, stepping in front of Valta, as she prepared to enter what could be her final fight. One last battle in this cursed place where they didn’t belong. 

*****

At the last second, Solas deflected the bolt aimed at Sera’s head. His aim was imperfect though, the lyrium-enhanced projectile slicing through layers of tanned leather across the rogue’s forearm though missing its primary target of her chest.

“ _Shite!_ ” she called out. Her bow dropped uselessly to the ground to clutch her shaking arm, blood oozing between the protective barrier of her pale fingers.

The Sha-Bertol did not pause their advance. Bull moved to defend the injured archer, ax blows parried away from her weakened form while Solas summoned a rift behind the attacking dwarves, his focus distracted away from the Warden blocking lyrium-enhanced sword blows from the pressuring dwarves.

When assured that Sera was safe, his focus returned once again to Idalya. His cerulean eyes narrowed, spying a dwarf making an undetected approach toward the Warden’s back. Rift magic sprung forth at the tip of the dwarf’s boots, its tendrils attached with force around his legs before pulling him screaming through a crack into the ground. Bones snapped and dislocated before their scream ended sudden snap, a dull echo vibrating off the stone walls.

*****

The Warden bent forward at the waist, struggling to regain breath in her aching lungs after defeating the final wave of dwarven warriors who’d appeared to be endless until the last fell. That wasn’t their only obstacle. To descend, they’d climbed down more ladder rungs than she knew could exist.

Valta, undisturbed from the exertion, clamored to the engravings adorning the far wall while the team cleaned away drying streams of coagulating blood from weary weapons. The warriors replenished their strength while Solas tended to the weeping wounds marking the length of Sera’s arms carved from crossbow bolts.

“These are the only memories in this area,” Valta mumbled, her dirtied fingers drifting over the etches in the ancient stone-carved long before any of their existences. Wet, blood-splattered threads of ebony hair matted against her scalp. “That phrase is ‘the path of purity’, and there’s a reference to… ‘Titan’s Blood’? It says the Sha-Bertol come here to… _drink it.”_

_Sweet Maker, no._

Bull reached her side, a trickle of crimson dripping sporadically from the base of his angular jaw. He was reluctant to let a mage heal wounds he deemed _superficial,_ a remaining prejudice from his time fighting Trevinter. “I see only one thing here with veins…”

_“Lyrium_ ,” Idalya whispered, her throat hoarse. Reality zapped away the remaining energy, not leeched away from the throbbing in her side. “The Titan’s blood is _lyrium_.”

The images of those who’d consumed the substance daily for their adult lives floated to the front of her vision. Did the Chantry understand what it was doing? The lives they’d shattered misusing something they didn’t understand.

The truth was the truth, no matter how political it may be.

“Everything that’s happened here is related to lyrium. The destroyed mines. The singing stone. It all leads _here_.”  A deep rumble punctuated Valta’s words within the cavern. The heart of the Titan roared within the unending layers of stone as it awakened, sensing the emmenate battle.

“This ends here,” Idalya growled, moving toward the quivering sapphire heart lingering ahead.

The heart’s blinding illumination grew brighter as they moved forward. The massive _thing_ shook and Solas sharply pulled her shoulders to the side as a streak of magic soared out of the Titan. The beam struck Valta directly in the chest behind her.

Valta toppled backwards across the floor, unmoving as the dust settled around her, a limb rag doll. Dal moved to aid her, but halted as stone barriers erupted from the ground, enclosing them in a ring around the pulsating Titan, emanating a wave of anger that caused the Warden’s stomach to knot within her core.

Boulders rolled in, unassisted toward the shuddering heart. Light poured from the cracks as the stone united, connecting into a massive beast strung together by veins of lyrium. The rock monster roared, filling the cavern with a deafening echo as the party pointed their weapons prepared to battle.

*****

The Iron Bull followed Idalya’s steps without instruction, his ax lodging into the center of a lyrium deposit glowing intensely on the creatures side. He’d learned over this mission to follow the Warden’s instincts. Maybe it was the corruption coursing through her veins, or maybe the tired Warden had _just seen some shit_ in her life- either way, her instincts in battle were unmatched by any other in the Inquisition save Cassandra and Evelyn.

An arrow whizzed past his horn, lodging into the wound left behind from the lyrium he’d destroyed. The unnatural monster roared as Sera shot yet another arrow into the wound, splitting the shaft in two. Even injured, the archer was an expert at her craft.

“Suck it, ya shite!” the elf called out as she continued peppering the open gaps with her remaining arrows, the scent of fresh blood emanating from her limbs.

A grin spread across the Qunari’s lips as he charged forward to destroy another cluster of angry glowing rock, distracting the beast from the Warden dancing destruction around the beast’s back out of its massive reach.

****

The illumination grew dimmer in the cavern as Idalya side jumped around the edges of the monster, at least she thought it did. Her eyes grew weary, vision blurring at the edges further with each beat of her thundering heart as she swung her sword into another cache of lyrium.

She clenched her lips shut as the powdered crystals exploded in her face. Since becoming a mage, she’d avoided lyrium even as her curiosity peaked. Knowing what lyrium was now, she’d avoid it for the rest of her life, which may not be long.

The creature leaned unevenly to its side- the attacks to the lyrium clusters harming it deeply. But what was this creature? An ancient being merely existing until interrupted in its slumber. Who were they to attack this creature so the Inquisition could harvest its essence for its own selfish needs? The entire premise nauseated her even as she continued to swing her sword, her own energy waning not unlike the monster’s.

****

Another grouping of lyrium exploded as the Warden’s sword connected, the stone monster howling in perceived pain. Solas summoned a solid fist of rift energy and crashed it upon the struggling creature that lurched forward on unbalanced limbs.

These depths were unlike anything the god had witnessed within his millennium of life. Magic greater than his own compelled this beast to protect the titan at all costs. He knew of titans and the origins of lyrium, but he’d never seen one with his own eyes. To watch the creature enslave an army of dwarves, forcing them to drink its blood to remain connected and fight to the death was humbling, and terrifying. It awed him in a way he hadn’t expected.

A working Eluvian existing close to this titan with fresh bloody symbols of Mythal painted across the walls made him more uncomfortable with this situation. Who traveled here to use this creature’s immeasurable power for their own?

After defeating this titan, then what? Pillage what remained for the further exploitation of humans? In harsher times fueled by war, he would have insisted that none live after what they’d seen. But now he was one of _them_ , those who meddled with what they didn’t understand, those who redirected the course of history, damming and redirecting destiny’s river to their preferred path.

Idalya sidestepped around the monster’s back, ducking the poorly thrown arc of a weakened limb. With a swing of her sword, the final nodule of lyrium exploded, and the illuminated veins of the creature flickered. Boulders collapsed to the ground from its fading form.

Solas cast a barrier around the Warden as she stumbled back, a shaking hand clutched to her pained side, an injury he understood was draining her precious life away. No answers remained for the girl about what caused her injury to linger. He’d avoided studying and understanding darkspawn so now the corruption branching through the girl he loved as his own daughter, was foreign to him. Another regret born of his ignorance.

The last of the monster faded away, leaving its dull beating heart behind.

Idalya, uninterested in the spoils, limped to Valta’s side who’d remained immobilized on the floor during the fight. The elf shook her limp shoulders, her voice pained as the dwarf reentered a pained consciousness. “Valta, are you hurt?”

The Shaper pressed her filth-covered hands over her ears, rolling to her back as the Warden stepped away, sensing incoming danger.

“Too loud… the song. _Stop!_ ” A sapphire light appeared around the dwarf and before Solas could cast a barrier of his own waning energy from battle, light erupted from every surface of Valta.

Time slowed, watching the energy strike Idalya. The force flung her backward through the air, toppling like a withered toy before collapsing to the stone. The elf raced to his chosen child’s side as she laid unmoving. Her violet eyes were open and fixed to the ceiling above, her pupils wide. 

“I am… it’s all right.” Valta’s voice seemed so far away as his fingers touched the blood pooling beneath her chest, running in streams from under Idalya’s breastplate.

Bull scoffed in irritation, pulling the dwarf to her feet. “You cast some kind of spell. That shouldn’t be possible.”

“It wasn’t a spell.” Valta rambled in defense. “It was… an _accident_. Everything will be fine.”

Solas could feel Bull’s eyes burning through his back as he tightened the straps on the Warden’s chest piece to slow her remaining life from bleeding out onto the stone. “Everything is far from okay,” he heard the Qunari whisper and knew Bull could smell the quantity of blood exiting the weakened girl’s body.

He pressed his hands where her injury lay and poured the full brunt of his magic through the steel, visualizing the flesh retched open, sewing it back together with magic. His eyes shuttered, failure spreading through his limbs, as his magic seal separated, the wound resisting any futile attempts to heal it.

“ _Fuck!”_ the fury in his voice shook the stone walls as the Warden’s broken breaths slowed, her blood soaking into the knees of his breeches as he watched her die helpless to change her course.

_No. He would not allow her fate to end this way._

Grabbing her limp weighted form in his arms, Solas forced his remaining energy to fade step across the cavern, ascending through the hollowed room in a blink of a mortal’s eye as the lyrium carved walls flashed by. The world stopped screeching through his ears as he stopped at the eluvian, his lungs screaming from exertion. His tunic absorbing Idalya’s blood still flowing. Looming above them, Solas felt the power pulsing through the slumbering relic, not so different from himself as he’d risen.

Outside the side cave, he sensed a young Bronto feasted from decaying She-Bertol corpses they’d left behind through their battle. He summoned the creature, steering through its vision until it entered the cave, green energy covering its eyes. He placed the dying Warden at his feet.

Directing the Bronto to the eluvian he didn’t hesitate, pulling the Warden’s boot dagger into his hand, and swiping the sharpened blade across the unknowing animal’s throat. It made no sounds of betrayal besides the wet sloshing on the ground as its blood erupted through the wound.

Runes on the wall pulsed, speeding to life as the eluvian hummed, a hissing of power within his ears. It yearned for the sacrifice, his holy gift. Solas directed his eyes to the relic, ancient elven words from before even his time falling past his lips as the broken shards of glass fused back together with the woven lyrium of its frame illuminating bright as its true appearance became clear. He shuttered his eyes as the violet light grew until the liquid-like surface of the true eluvian popped into focus, the key to the doorway complete.

There was no time to question his actions or their consequences. All that drove him was the thought of eternity without the girl as he scooped her back into his arms, an eternity questioning his failures as a teacher and a father. He held enough guilt to carry him through the eons. Her death he refused to add to it.

Solas fade stepped through the open portal, the fading Warden hugged against his chest.

The eluvian’s door snapped shut, its glass breaking and falling like jagged snow to the ground inside the cave as the now satisfied runes’ light dulled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and your kind comments!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for checking out this story, if you're new please try out Once & Again or it's Inquisitor centered prequel, Burning in the Flames in the series link above. <3


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